


Something in our veins

by TwistedViolets



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Ben & Klaus just being best buds, Ben and his tentacles, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Molestation, Pedophilia, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Strangulation, Teen Angst, honestly all of these teens are so dysfunctional, pov from klaus, sadness all around, victim blaming themselves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2019-11-29 04:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18217934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedViolets/pseuds/TwistedViolets
Summary: This is Klaus’s third F so Reginald  hires a tutor for him. Unfortunately they don’t have a ‘I like children’ section on a resume.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first official work here.My writing is terrible but I’m hopping to improve it over time. There are probably a lot of mistakes because I haven’t really looked over it but it’ll slowly get cleaned up.
> 
> This is going to be pretty sad but not all of my works will be this sad hopefully.
> 
> Tags will be update as the story progresses, Poor Klaus ~

Who the hell cares about World War One? Klaus certainly didn't care. He has more important things to do like get high and ignore his 'friends' that liked to haunt him.

Regardless of his opinion he had to learn it like the rest of his siblings.

He's standing in a line next to the rest of his six siblings, in order corresponding with their numbers. All of them dressed to the nines with their backs straight, presenting proper Stature. Grace goes down the line and hands each of them their last test, corrected.

Luther, Diego, Allison, and then it's his turn. Grace hands Klaus his test paper and he catches a glance at the large F painted on the front before he even gets it in his hands. As he grasps it, his stomach twists and turns and god he might throw up.

This is the third F he's gotten this year and it's only January. His father is really going to give him hell for this one. He holds the paper to his chest as if to obscure it from the view of his siblings.

Is this embarrassment? he wonders briefly, considering his actions for a moment.

No. It wasn't, it couldn't be. Klaus Hargreeves doesn't do embarrassment. He's usually the one embarrassing others. His abstract thoughts and personal clothing choices really did it.

In all honesty he should have expected this. He didn't listen to half of the lectures, and hadn't taken notes. At all. He didn't even make the effort to study with Ben and five this time. The first time in years that he deliberately skipped out on it.

Something inside Him has been off lately. 

"My 96 is better then your 95." Klaus heard Diego bragging to Luther. He watched Luther's face turn into something almost comical.

"Grow up Diego"

"You both are imbeciles, look upon a perfect score." Five budged into the conversation uninvited flashing his test at them. A 100 written in bold in numbers clearly visible.

"Shh" Allison whispers and they quiet down and return to watching grace. Who's currently handing Vanya her test before stepping back and addressing them.

"Your test scores were great and overall I'm satisfied with your efforts. we will be learning about the Cold War come tomorrow, so be prepared Children, your dismissed," Grace finishes and his siblings disburse, going to do their own separate things given the little freedom they are allowed.

"Klaus, May I have a word with you." 

'No' he thinks but he stops anyway. The room clears and it's only him and grace.

"Yes, mother?" He says and looks her in the eyes, Something Keen to sadness shines in them. His stomach twists again and again.

"Your father has told me to inform you that you will, starting tomorrow be privately tutored.”

He's a disappointment. He can tell with every-word she says, like he can hear his fathers voice. 'Klaus you have so much potential but you waste it' yeah so what if he does. The dead are supposed to stay dead. 

He nods and slowly leaves assuming he's dismissed. Grace doesn't stop him so he must have assumed correctly.

He kinda wants to apologize to grace because now she was going to have to teach him separately from everyone else. How would she even work it into her schedule? How much of a nuisance will he become for her?

Klaus is a druggie, a no good trouble maker on good days but when he drags people in to his messes he can't help but feel guilty. His actions weighted heavy on his heart but he couldn't help but be a-little relived. At least dad wasn't going to lock him up again.

He enters his room and is greeted by the sight of Ben on his bed, reading a book. Apparently already having deemed it his own bed. Klaus takes ten steps and falls, face planting on his bed.

"I'm such a disappointment, aren't I?" He mumbles into his pillow before sitting and flipping himself around to stare at the ceiling. Ben doesn't look up from his book.

"Sometimes.” 

"Thanks for the conformation, I was just making sure." Klaus sighs and opens his bed side table. He reaches inside and pulls out a bottle without a label and downs two pills.

Bens disappointing glances burn through him but he knows he won't care in ten minutes.

————————————————————

What the hell is this?

An older male, with white hair and a black suit is standing in his room. Grace is standing beside him.

"As I told you yesterday, you will begin being privately tutored today" grace says before motioning towards the male. "This is Mr. Smith, he will be your tutor."

Klaus can't believe this. When grace told him that he was going to be tutored he obviously assumed she would be doing the tutoring. Okay maybe it was stupid of him to. If he had known he wouldn't have been wearing a skirt, and jacket that revealed his bare chest to a stranger.

Subconsciously, his arms wanted to cover his chest, and his back wanted to bend to hide his body. "What." That's all he can say, his stomach again twisting in an all familiar way.

"You do remember me telling you right?"

He nods but doesn't voice his concern or the misunderstanding he had. Unable to bring his stupidity into light anymore then it already was. Grace lightens up a little and says "don't be nervous, Mr. Smith is a great tutor."

He's not high enough for this. He hasn't taken anything today because he wanted to be a good student for grace. Even though he wasn't planning on caring or learning but maybe he could put in some effort or something.

Mr. Smith gives him a stern look and pats Grace on the back. "Don't worry I think we will get along just fine."

"He can be a little difficult, please come get get me if you need anything. I'll only be in the kitchen." Grace takes a few steps, and hesitates before leaving.

Now their alone. Him and this Mr. Smith. It's quiet but soon the rooms filled with the sound of writing and Mr.Smith's gruff voice.

Klaus didn't really listen, and only pretended to show even a little bit of interest. Half way through his brain turned off and he's not to sure he didn't fall asleep. 

Kinda like an out of body experience, he's drifted away, staring into space. Thinking of things that could be, Ben and Five are probably talking about him. Luther might be chasing after Allison and maybe Diego's with mom. Vanya, oh poor Vanya, she's probably alone, trying to learn violin to impress father.

Then he thinks about dogs. Their nice, loyal at least he hears. It might be nice to have one but he doubts he'll ever get a chance until he's out of the house. Which at this rate might never happen or at least not soon enough.

With his thoughts else where he hadn't noticed Mr.Smith's advances on him. By the time Klaus was done daydreaming it had seemed like Smith was not even a foot away. He seemed so big, imitating, and practically towering over him. 

He brings his arms up and crosses them across his chest, self consciousness bubbling up again. He stares down at the page he had been writing at but his neck is practically on fire from the intense gaze of his tutor. This is okay. He's just feeling a little out of the loop because he is coming back from daydreaming. They were always this close right? He's just losing it.

Then it happens. Smith pushes him down and forces him on his back. In the process his pencil rolls of the bed and on the floor, it's sound echoing in his ears. His eyes are wide as his chest pounds. Smith is at his neck, pecking it all over. 

He doesn't want this. His skin is getting dirtier and dirtier with every kiss and he wants to... scream. He wants help. He needs help. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out but a gasp.

"You like this don't you?"

No he doesn't. Smith takes both his hands in one of his own, holding him down so he's unable to escape. Then he feels the other hand wander down to his skirt and he feels it caress his dick.

"I know you do, dressing like this," 

Smith purrs in his ear, while massaging his dick through the skirt. "It's really making me hard."

What is he saying? this is his fault? Because he decided that he was feeling good today? Because he wanted to wear a skirt? Because he shows a tiny bit of skin? There's no way this is his fault right? Klaus doesn't know, but he knows he doesn't want this. 

Tears prick his eyes before leaving a wet trail down his face. Why hasn't somebody come to save him?

Oh yeah, it's because they don't know he's in trouble. 

Because he hasn't screamed yet. His body still in shock at the horror of the situation. Or maybe it is because he really wants it right? Because he would have screamed if he didn't want it. If He hated it so much he would be screaming and fighting right now but he isn't. 

What's wrong with him? 

Smith pushes his hand under the skirt and feels his bare dick and it twitches without his permission. then Smith pushes his skirt down and starts stroking him.

He's getting hard. He can feel it but he's scared. He's so dirty now, everyone will see it. This situation, he's allowed it. He's held down but he could still fight but he's not.

He likes it. He likes it a-lot. If he keeps telling himself that maybe he'll actually start to believe it. He really hopes so.

Smith kisses his lips and his hand rubs his dick's head, Around and around. It forces Klaus to fidget from the sensation. Smith goes back to it stroking it whole with the practiced hands of a adult.

"Your so cute, sweetheart."

He's dissolved into silent sobs, and he can feel how close he is. A stroke, another and he's gone. He lets out a moan and closes his eyes, pleasure fills him. He feels good for a moment. 

He hates it. 

"Slut," Smith whispers against his neck before pulling his skirt up and patting his head. "I think we learned enough for today, I'll be back next week. I can't wait to see you again." The man says as he stands, before he adjusts himself in his pants, trying to hide his erection. Then he leaves and the room is silent.

Klaus cries, and doesn't stop crying. He turns over and forces his head into his pillow and screams. He screams until he's hoarse and his throat protests. He goes to the bathroom and turns on the hot water in the bath before getting in.

The water burns his skin but he doesn't care. He scrubs his neck and scrubs his chest until he's bleeding but he still can't get the dirt off of him. He's used and disgusting now, nobody will ever want him.

It's all his fault. He wore these clothes that weren't for men. It has to be his fault. He didn't scream, he didn't fight but he could have. He was scared but still he... could have done something.

If he told anyone now they would tell him it was his fault. 

His doubts and regrets swirled in his head by the time he got out his water is cold. He wraps himself in a towel and walks to his room. Nobody is in the hall, it's silent. 

Nobody is even aware of what happened. 

Nobody would care.

They would blame him because he didn't scream, because he dressed a little strangely for a male. Just showed a little too much skin right?

it was his fault.

He goes to bed side table and pulls out the bottle of bills and downs some straight from the bottle without a care if he overdosed. It'd probably be better for everyone if he did.

He gets dressed in one the many suits he owned and just sits on his bed. Until there’s a single knock on his door, and it opens revealing Diego, a lollipop in his mouth and one in his hand. He throws it to Klaus and it lands in his lap.

"Come on, mission for the Umbrella Academy." He says before walking away, out of Klaus's vision.

Klaus sighs, puts the lollipop in his mouth and sucks, it's strawberry. Sweet, too sweet.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus living in the land of denial and his siblings are not helping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this story was going to be a lot darker but I think I’ll save that plot line for a sub plot for another TUA story I’m planning.

'I hate you' Klaus mouths to Diego from his chair at dinner. Diego ignores him in favor of shoveling mash potatoes in his own mouth.

Just because he's late to dinner every other day doesn't give Diego the right to use 'there's a umbrella academy mission' as a way to get him out of bed. The lollipop too was just a little treat to make him lower his guard, he was so out of it he didn't even register the fact that the alarm hadn't sound and the rest of his siblings lack of presence. It would never have worked if he was in half of his right state of mind.

He stares at Diego spitefully but Diego avoids his glare and looks away feigning innocence.

He would have preferred to sleep the day away then that way he could wake up tomorrow and forget today ever happened. His eyes feel puffy from crying but it probably doesn't look any different from when he's high. Which he is at probably a lethal level at the moment but it's what ever.

He takes a bite of his cheese burger but that's all he can stomach and listens to the collective sound of eating and audible Boredom. He's a lot like this slab of meat he's chewing right now, dirty, and tainted.

Instead of eating anymore of his dinner he chews his nails, which his siblings have told him time and time again not to do at the table. It's a terrible habit he's never been able to break.

Crack. 

Fingers are so fragile, a thin line of blood forms along his nails end. The pain doesn't deter him from chewing on another nail. 

His father's gaze is focused on him, maybe considering saying something to him but he doesn't. Breaking his own rules is much even for him. Reginald is an asshole but at least he's a consistent one.

His neck is itchy and probably from the newly formed scratches. He fights the instinct to scratch because it'd be strange. He doesn't want to be questioned. 

Soon dinner is dismissed and he rushes up the stairs and into to his bedroom. Upon entering he falls on his bed ready to sleep. His family doesn't care all that much what Klaus wants.

Ben enters his room mumbling about 'Diego and his loud mouth' and Klaus agrees internally. He shivers and moves toward his wall to allow room for Ben to join him in bed.

Ben does and he's got a angry look plastered on his face. "You know, Diego's been mouthy lately."

Klaus nods and closes his eyes, relaxing into the bed chasing sleep. Even if he's going to be dragged out of bed later for training. Not his problem right now, sounds like future Klaus's problem.

He begins counting sheep. 

One sheep. He's never going to open his eyes again.

"Him and mother have been working on his stuttering."

Two sheep. He wouldn't get up even if there was a fire in the kitchen.

"Now that it's almost nonexistent he's become such a brat."

Three sheep. His bed is so comfortable he could live in it.

He rubs his head into his pillow long since toned out bens rambling. He takes in the smell, Ben, himself, something similar to cigarette smoke and something new. If he could describe it he'd just put it as 'old man musk'.

He's bolts up right, hand over his mouth, Afraid he might puke. His stomach twists and turns. God is the room spinning? His body convulses as his gag reflex tells him to just let it out.

"You okay?" Ben sits up and places a hand on his back. The motion supposed to be comforting in nature was terrifying on a whole new level for him. He flinches and jumps over Ben and sprints to the bathroom.

He's on his knees and heaving up what little he ate for dinner, and stomach acid. It's disgusting taste contaminates his mouth and burns his throat.

Terrible, terrible, fucking terrible. 

That's what this is. He feels the eyes of his sibling judging him. Ben must think that this is all because of the pills he's been taking. He images Ben wants to comfort him, he always does but then he'd be rewarding this 'bad behavior'.

He'd be telling him 'hey it's okay to get high, I'm right here supporting you' and Ben wasn't going to do that. He knows Ben won't because he isn't afraid to do a silent rebellion against his terrible habits.

So he heaves into the toilet alone and the sound of puke hitting water echos in his ears.

Disgusting.

————————————————————

Saturday is probably Klaus's least favorite day of the week. Which is contrary to his sibling's opinions. It's the only day out of the week where true freedom is allowed, even if it is only for a few hours. 

It's this freedom that really gets to him. He could do anything from getting high in the attic to finally getting around to reading that drivers ed book. But he doesn't. It's the idea that he could do anything, without guidance that he hates. 

He always makes the worse decisions on his own.

Everyone else has a hobby of some sort but not him. At least getting high shouldn't count. He's always hanging around Ben or Diego and on occasion Five. He observes them, and learns all of their little tics. Things he puts away into his memory banks until he might need it. 

"Klaus!" Diego practically yells at him despite being directly in front of him. He imagines Diego was probably talking to him and he wasn't listening.

Typical Klaus behavior. 

"Could you say that a little louder?I couldn't hear you."

Diego gives him a dirty look and bops his head. His siblings should be nicer it seems these days that he's the only one ever getting hurt. 

Maybe it's always been that way.

"Hurry up," Diego said before grabbing his hand as if he was going to guide him somewhere. "This will be -"

Diego doesn't even finish his sentence before Klaus rips his hand out of his grasp. He stumbles back, kicking up dirt from the backyard ground.

"Don't touch me," He said holding his arm to his chest. "I'm dirty."

It's silent. Diego's staring at him, trying to figure him out. It's scrutinizing and he can feel his checks burn with a blush. Then Diego smiles and lets out a laugh.

The laugh makes Diego seem so big. Why is He laughing at him?

"Listen Klaus, you're high off your ass," he said through laughs. "Your just seeing things."

But Klaus isn't seeing things. He knows he's dirty. He can feel it through every pore in his body. This dirty feeling is like a sickness you can't see and Diego's touch could be enough for him to catch it too. He doesn't want that. 

Klaus takes a step back and Diego takes one forward. Diego brings his hands up and makes a motion as if calming a startled horse.

"You trust me right? Listen to me, Your aren't dirty.

There isn't enough trust in the world for Klaus to actually believe that.

He takes another step back only to bump into a warm body. He could immediately tell it is Allison because her curls tickled his neck. She flicks his neck and he jumps forward because Diego's a hell of a lot more inviting then a angry Allison. 

"Oooh," He hears her coo as he turns to face her. She's got the most smug expression as if she just found out a secret no one else knew. "Why didn't you tell me you had a girlfriend. How did you even manage that?" She says with a wide grin.

"What," It comes out before he can even process her words. Where the hell did she come up with that? "I don't have a girlfriend." He said back defensively.

"You can't lie to me Klaus. Did you think I wouldn't notice that hickie?"

His right hand slaps on his neck and feels a blush spreading along it. 

Shit.

He feels like this is a rare moment that would be perfect to say 'hey remember that tutor from yesterday' but he doesn't. He doesn't want to bother them with something so stupid and utterly his fault. It's been what? Nine hours maybe and he's been functioning just fine.

Okay he's not but he will someday if he just forgets, puts it somewhere in the back of his mind. If he keeps numbing himself he won't even remember it eventually right? Unfortunately he knows that's not how it works. He's more aware of the fact that no one takes him seriously and just the thought of them laughing at his suffering is enough to keep his mouth shut.

"It's a bug bite." He mumbles before turning his head and walking off barely catching a glance at Diego's shit eating grin as Luther arrives. He hears them inform Luther of his 'girlfriend' and laughter is heard bouncing off all of the walls in the backyard.

'ignore it' he thinks to himself as he passes Five who is drawing something in the dirt. Guess he's trying to figure out time travel or something even though father keeps telling him no. If he wanted to waste his time, more power to him. 

He sits beside Ben who's laying on his jacket to avoid the dirt, one hand under his head and the other holding a book.

"You'd better watch it." 

"Excuse me?" 

"If Diego starts asking you about where you got those pills..." 

Klaus gives him a dirty look. Could Ben say that any louder? Diego was literally like six feet away. This is exactly why he doesn't tell his siblings anything.

He sees Vanya sitting on the ground next to the back door. He bets she figures if she stayed there long enough that she might be invited to join one of them. Tough luck. As long as Luther is out here it would be suicide to include her because father says no and Luther likes being daddy's pet. Luther would tell father before they even had a chance to explain to him that hey a game of tag won't hurt.

He falls backward and his head hits the hard ground. Ouch. Still the dejected look on Vanya's face was something he'd never get out of his head. He closes his eyes and slightly hopes for rain to come wash away the dirt on his body.

Isn't that how this is supposed to work?

Ben is silent but occasionally he hears the sound of pages being turned and laughter from the others.

This is his family.

Unfortunately it's the only one he has.

————————————————————

Allison's room always smells intoxicatingly sweet. It's overwhelming if you're not used to it but Klaus has spent a good amount of time in it stealing makeup and clothes. He used to use her makeup all of the time but recently she's decided that he's ruined too many expensive eye liners. Now she does his makeup when he asks. 

Usually at night when everyone is supposed to be sleeping and he feels that sense of freedom that somehow he loves and hates at the same time.

"Do you think Its weird that I like girl things?" He asks her, his eyes closed. Allison is painting his eyes with a pale pink eye shadow.

"No," she chuckles and moves to the other eye. "Why did Luther say something to you again? Or was it your new girlfriend?"

"Shut up. I told you I don't have one." He pouts and wishes she would just drop the idea. 

"It's just-" he shuts his mouth unsure of what to say. He's never put much thought into his makeup or clothing choices before. Of course he's forced into the suits by his father but when he's had freedom he's always chosen skirts over pants. Now he sees It might be wrong of him to do so.

To be so free and liberated.

Its gotten him in trouble. 

It's his fault his body now infects everything he touches with grime and dirt. What if he's poisoning the air Allison's breathing? He shouldn't be so close to her.

He pulls back and opens his eyes. Her attention is focused on him and she exudes concern. Misplaced concern but concern nonetheless.

It's quiet and she doesn't say anything but he can see the way she wants to ask what's wrong, tell him to open up to her. He should. He should tell her that he's been touched, defiled by a old man who was supposed to teach him. He says nothing.

He's shaking at the thought of opening up to her because if he did the situation would become real. The reality that he's been running away from in his own mind would be real. The mere thought that if he never said anything it wouldn't be real is ridiculous but he's young. 

How else are you supposed to deal with this kinda of thing? Hell if he knows.

"I think I shouldn't anymore." He cocks his head to the side to avoid looking at her. Laying out something so personal is always hard. 

"What do you mean?" She sounds angry and he refuses to look back at her. "It's part of who you are, what make you so great."

It's what makes him vulnerable. 

"I just mean-," She stops and lets out a noise of frustration. "You can't just turn it off right?"

Sure he'd still want to wear the prettiest of skirts and god he really wants to wear a dress but he can hide those feelings. Put them somewhere deep inside his numbed mind so that he doesn't have to bother with it. It shouldn't be that hard right? Right?

Right. 

He looks back at her his face set with indifference and she almost looks like she might cry. Cry for him because he's already used up all his tears. 

"Klaus, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, just thinking out loud," He says shaking his head before getting off the bed. "Forget I said anything at all."

Allison grabs his hand as he leaves and he stiffens up. His first response is to yank his hand away but he stops himself. He already made that mistake once.

"You can talk to me."

"I know." 

It's silent as they stare in an starring war of sorts. He has no intentions of losing and she doesn't look like she's giving up either. But she does. Her face softens and she sighs letting go of his hand. 

"Sorry for coddling you, I'm just worried." 

He nods, without saying anything his chest is aching and he wishes it would stop.He goes back to his room rubbing off the makeup as he enters.

What a waste.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the little things in life you over look. Klaus figures this out the hard way.

There's something about this house Klaus can't stand.

It's main occupants are moody, hormonal teenagers.

It's rooms are a cold and dusty wasteland that always makes it seem like something is watching you even when your alone.

And the floors are old hardened pieces of wood not fit for sleeping on.

He's never noticed that last one until today because sleeping on the floor isn't something he's does regularly but he did last night. He didn't even want to touch his bed again.

The first night he just flipped his pillow and avoided it like the plague but it still made his skin tingly.

It's been practically infused with that nasty smell along with his blankets and he's not entirely sure how to work a washing machine.He has already burdened grace enough so he crossed her off the list. he settled for the floor which isn't as bad as it he originally thought.

Expect the the back pain in the morning makes it almost not worth it.

His siblings give him weird looks as they pass his room but hey it's just Klaus being Klaus.

Is it okay for him to hate being himself?

————————————————————

Reginald is the perfect example of a tyrant ruler. 

He rules the way he wants and if you don't like it that's too bad. He's the angry king accompanied by a queen that spoils the citizens with love behind his back. All of his many children are citizens forced to live by his rules.

Klaus is standing in line again along with his five other siblings. Vanya wasn’t included in drills, ever. This is Familiar in every definition of the word. It's completely silent not even breathing could be heard. 

The small banner that the children had when grace was overlooking them would give them a one way ticket to hell in Reginald's presence. He's been there, done that. Not fun.

Reginald looks over each of his children's faces, a bell in his right hand.

He's waiting patiently to hear the 'ding' that would signal the start of the drill. It's entire purpose is to improve their readying time in case of a real 'Umbrella Academy Mission'.

A moment stretch's to two and he's forced to bite down on a yawn.

Ding!

He turns and immediately runs for the stairs pushing over his siblings and in the process tripping Allison. She falls face first but he doesn't stop to help her despite how he wants to. Rule number one; during drills it's every man for himself. That is until her hand catches his foot tripping him. His head connects with the floor.

God how he hates these hard floors.

The room spins as He tries to pry her hands off of his feet but she's not relenting. "Say sorry." She pronounces every syllable. She releases him only to move from his feet to Hover over his stomach before sitting.

He's trapped.

"You did it that on purpose! say sorry."

What happen to all that 'I'm worried about you' mumble jumbo Allison was spilling yesterday. Everyone is so two faced it makes him want to gag.

"It was a accident!"

He's sure this position is familiar and not in the normal cat fight way Allison and him were especially prone to. Being practically certified divas of the household. They had these little cat fights that are insignificant in the long run.

It's his fault He keeps getting in these situations. 

This isn't a cat fight. 

This is a cat looking down at a mouse, clearly out classed. She's ready to pounce and devour him whole.

His heart beat begins speeding up and he just wants to run. Something sparks in him that he lacked before; Flight and Fight responses. They kick in and he immediately starts flailing. His hands find purchase in her hair and he yanks. Hard. She immediately growls before doing the same to him.

"That's cheap even for you. just apologize already."

He's about to be devoured.

"Get off of me!" he bares his teeth as if they were fangs and digs his nails down her right arm.

He needs to escape.

She hisses at the sudden pain before she grabs his hands and restraining him so he's unable to fight.

He doesn't want to be taken again.

"Please get off of me," Tears well up in his eyes. "Please." his voice comes out so small and hoarse he wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t hear him. His tears begin coating his cheeks.

Her angry aura fades, her grip loosens and concern overtakes her. She goes to open her mouth, maybe to apologize even though this is his fault. Or maybe to say that she hadn't meant to make him cry, she just wanted him to take responsibility for his actions.

He's too stubborn for his own good.

A hand appears on her shoulder before she can speak and Reginald tells her to get off.

He's sobbing now his hands coming up to cover his eyes as he cries. Reginald leaves him there to cry, alone. Without a single word Reginald walks away in favor of monitoring his other siblings.

Grace calls Allison away because her arm is bleeding and she needs to be tended to.

He's a terrible brother. No matter what he does he can't do it right.

Now he's hurt Allison.

————————————————————

The daggers being glared at him were well deserved, that doesn't mean he's okay with them.

"You tripped Allison."

"It wasn't on purpose."

"It was. I saw it with my own eyes. You can’t lie to me.” Luther insists as he stares Klaus down. He didn't understand why Luther was lying, he was already up the stairs when that whole fiasco took place. What's the point in even trying to argue that he wasn’t?

"You didn't see anything."

"I did," Luther moves in closer to him Towering-over him, attempting to imitate him in his own room. The nerve. "You tripped her and left cuts on her arm. What if one those turns into a scar?”

What about the part that Allison held him down? He imagines Allison kept that little part of her sob story to herself. Even if she didn't Luther would never acknowledge that part because Allison is perfect to him.

Besides All of that It won't scar anyway. He's sure there's no way that he cut her that deep, he barely has finger nails. Even so what would he do with himself if she was stuck with a nasty scar for the rest of her life?

She'd have to be reminded every day of what he did.

it was his fault.

"It won't scar," he steps up to Luther to prove a point. Luther's imitation tactic isn't going to work on him, Klaus isn't stupid. Luther wouldn't do anything Physically at least to Klaus. Diego and Luther always fought tooth and nail but never Luther and Klaus. Luther would just cry to daddy about Him and his failures.

Apparently being number one has its perks.

"Stop acting like you know everything just because Allison told you so."

The next words out of Luther's mouth ruined him. 

He thought he was already ruined.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Luthers words come out almost as if he was speaking in slow motion. His heart drops with the realization. How could He have over looked something so fucking important?

Something that's been looking him in the eyes, following his every movement. There is a reason why Reginald knows everything about everyone.

"I looked at father's surveillance cameras Klaus.”

Thats all it took for Klaus to realize he's already been had. He's danced around himself, around these feelings as if he pretended it didn't happen no one would ever find out. Reginald has to know already, these cameras that line every room aren't for show.

He's been groomed to be used to their presence since before he could even remember. The man on the other side ensured them it's for their safety and occasionally research purposes. They are such rare specimens.

Safety? Really?

His own father didn't interfere.

His own father let that happen to him.

Was he just a little research project for His father? Reginald has done a lot of terrible shit but this. Klaus Can't believe he’d do such a thing.

Reginald just happen to miss the five minutes of terror that he went through that's all. Right?

His father doesn't know, he's blissfully unaware. He has to be.

He takes a step back from Luther, just over the blond's shoulder he can see the camera that watches his own room. It's red light blinks. Ominously telling everyone it's recording their every movement and sin they committed.

"I'm Sorry." He takes another step back, unable to accept the possibility that his father could have, might have watched the entire thing he's been running away from.

"I'm so sorry." Another step back and he bumps into his nightstand, the lamp falls off and its light bulb shatters on contact with the floor.

"If Allison scars, you will be." Luther threatens him before leaving the room, carefully avoiding the glass. 

Klaus drops to the floor uncaring of the scattered glass. he leans back against his night stand, it's hard wood digging into his shoulder blades. He grabs a larger piece of glass and holds it gingerly with his right hand and brings it to his left wrist.

Nothing matters anymore.

He thinks about driving the glass across his wrist. He wants to watch the blood pour on the floor and feel his skin tear open.

This will make Allison feel better. 

This will make him feel better.

Erasing his sins one cut at a time.

His hand twitches and he brings the glass down and slices a clean line into his wrist. Fast and smooth as he clenches his teeth. He leaves himself no time to back out. A small line of blood pools on the cuts edges before running down his wrist and into his hand.

Fuck.

Hurts like a paper cut on steroids.

He drops the bloodied glass beside him and puts his head in his hands. Blood is getting on his face and in his hair and god it’s so warm, welcoming even. It pours out of him and he lets it.

He doesn't feel any fucking better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support :3
> 
> Klaus really needs a therapist and like a million hugs. I swear comfort is coming soon.


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus watches the results of his actions play out.

There's something about waking up to tentacles caressing him that he'll never get used to. They leave slimy trails along his skin and occasionally slip into his clothes.

It's strangely welcoming.

Klaus opens his eyes only to realize he's in his bed and bens sleeping on his side beside him. Ben's face is peaceful and beautiful up close. His shirts open and these tentacles come forth from some unknown place inside of him. They are curious, perhaps drawn to Klaus's blood.

He's not entirely sure but they seem to like his more bloodied parts. His wrist is wrapped in a bandage and even some of his finger tips have bandaids now. he's grateful for Ben.

Ben is his rock, keeping him tied here in this world. His comfort, his friend, and His brother that's here for him when it's rough.

Moonlight shines on his bed and a tentacle wraps around his hand. A suckling sensation follows.

It's strange, from beyond another world. It's different from humans and their touch. Maybe that's why it's so relieving for him.

He wonders if Ben can feel this. If somehow his and this beasts senses were interlocked but alas Klaus has never asked before. It wouldn't be all that strange if they were on some level connected.

Regardless Ben would be apprehensive if he knew that these tentacles were out. He's always made a point of hiding them away because they're unpredictable at the best of times. At least that's what he's always preaching to him. He'd say 'they're dangerous' and 'they're weird' but mostly he avoids talking about them unless necessary.

A shame really.

He looks up at that camera that's recording and wonders if Reginald is on the other side watching him. It doesn't matter. He's knew some where in the back of his mind the entire time that it was a possibility. He just never wanted to admit it to himself.

Ben mumbles something and reaches out pulling him closer to himself. The tentacles consume him, kneading and sucking any skin they can get to.

He's hasn't felt this safe in days.

————————————————————

Klaus awakes to the sound of something breaking.

He jolts up right only to fall off the bed. That's fine, he wasn't interested in staying in bed anyways. He rubs his butt before hissing. Geez, he doesn't need all these bruises.

Bens gone.

He wasn't expecting him to stick around but a note would have been nice. His heads pounding but he's remarkably cleaned of blood. He doesn't ponder that thought long before moving on.

He changes his clothes which reek of blood before digging in his bed side table. He retrieves the unlabeled bottle and downs the last two pills. He'll have to get more now and endure the guilt that follows.

Someone's yelling and he hurries down stairs. There's something going on and he isn't going to miss it.

As soon as he reaches the bottom of the stairs he catches a glimpse of the problem. Luther and Diego starring each other down in the middle of a heated argument.

Behind them, Vanya stands and a cup lays shattered on the floor in front of her. She keeps yelling, telling them to knock it off. They ignore her.

"I told you to leave Klaus out of this." Diego seethes anger and Luther reflects it back.

"What do you mean leave Klaus out of this? How am I supposed to do that when the whole thing is his fault?"

"What the hell is your problem? You don't actually believe that right?" Diego's eye brows furrow and he spits fire. "Do you like living up father's back side the way you do?"

Luther spits venom right back. "Yeah, It's wonderful, you should try it sometime. I can tell you it's better then living up mom's backside."

They glare at each other, a glare Klaus has seen too many times.

————————————————————

Diego is livid.

Klaus wouldn't want to caught on the other side of that volcanic eruption. Luckily he isn't because he's got Diego's support. Even though he doesn't deserve it.

Diego is his unconditional supportive and loving brother when anything goes down. Essentially Diego is his Luther.

It's something to watch Diego and Luther tear into each other. It's another to watch and know that it's all his fault.

In the backyard where most respective brawls take place. His siblings crowd around in a circle minus Alison for whatever reason and he joins them watching it all go down. Vanya pleads for someone, anybody to stop it but nobody moves an inch.

Her pleas fall on deaf ears.

Bens watching from the sidelines, analyzing their movements and Five watches but has better things to do then watch another one of Luther and Diego's infamous squabbles.

Luther and Diego are rolling on the ground, fighting for dominance. Occasionally giving Punches and blows. Luther has a line of blood dribbling down his chin and Diego has blood on his forehead.

He should stop them before it gets out of hand like it always does. He takes a step readying himself to intervene before he's stop by Reginald's harsh voice.

"Let them be."

Never mind then, he guesses he'll let them kill each other. No biggie, its probably meant to happen.

Reginald comes to stand beside him, a book in one hand and a pen in the other. Is he taking fucking notes? On what? Which of his sons is killed first? Or maybe he's interested in if Number Two has what it takes to over throw Number One.

Really doesn't matter.

Klaus wonders if he has a page in that notebook. A page marked with 'disappointment', and 'selfishly stupid'. It's probably the most negative page in the whole thing. It should be burned, the whole fucking notebook.

Does Reginald know Luther looked at his precious 'surveillance system'. Where he occasionally watched them sleep and took notes on his son's scaring experiences. He'd ask Reginald but doesn't know if he's willing to stir up anymore trouble and there's a chance that looking at it may be one these amazing perks of being number one.

Diego's on top of Luther and he bares his teeth down at him. Diego’s red and panting. A hard fight, always is. Then he sees it something glimmer and shine, Diego has a blade in his opposite hand and it reflects sunlight.

No no, holy shit no.

He needs to stop it because Diegos about to take it too far. Reginald told him not to interfere.

He can't interfere, it'd go against his very biology to so.

He has to.

This is his fault.

If someone gets hurt they'll blame it on him. He’ll never be able to forgive himself.

God damn it.

He takes a step and then another.

Suspicious.

Reginald looks up from his writing and glares at him. "Number Four. Do not interfere." He says it with such conviction that he doesn't even know if he can argue.

Maybe this isn't his battle.

Then Diego brings the blade up and positions it above Luther's neck. Luthers eyes widen in fear but Diego's to far gone. Consumed by anger and fueled by resentment he thrusts the blade down aiming for his throat.

NO!

He runs and reaches out a hand to stop him but he's not going to be fast enough. He can already see it happen in his mind. Diego's blade piercing through Luther's throat and blood squirting up panting Diego red.

Luther will choke on his blood and die.

In that moment where the blade was only mere centimeters away from ending Luther's life a blue light appear beside them and Five pops out landing on his knees. Essentially placing his own hand between Luther's neck and Diego's blade.

It goes through Five’s hand before Diego can stop himself.

Fuck.

It's silent and Klaus falls to the ground his heart pounding. He almost watched his siblings kill each other.

Five pulls his hand back with Diego's blade driven through it. He hold it to his chest, he’s shaking and his face is scrunched in pain. He lets out a groan before standing.

Five always trying to be a badass. He really thinks he's above everyone else, treats them all like small children even though they're the same age. That blade in his hand has to hurt like hell but he tries to maintain a straight face as blood starts running down his arm. What the hell did he think they expected from him?

Fives allowed to scream and cry, Hell Klaus knows he would be.

Diego is silent, his hands twitch before he gets off of Luther.He's realizing exactly what mistakes he's made, how he almost did something he'd regret for the rest of his life.

Five hisses as he flexes his hand. Blood pours out and Klaus wants to gag. It looks nasty. Five's eyes are getting glassy, he's close to tears. He starts to turn away making sure to drop his hand to his side so the blood doesn't run up his arm anymore then it has.

"Honestly you two," he shakes his head before walking off, hopefully to get medical attention. "Find something productive to do so you stop dragging the rest of us into your petty arguments." His voice cracks and fates into the distance.

birds chirp in nearby trees and Diego puts his head in his hands. Probably regretting everything, sticking up for Klaus, fighting Luther, and hurting Five.

Klaus doesn't blame him, he regrets a lot too.

Reginald closes his book and he jumps. "What a shame Number Two, you were so close." He says before stalking off, following Five. Fives probably going to be minced meat next time they meet.

'You were so close' how fucking awful. Diego's body is shaking, his head in his hands, obscuring it from view.

He needs ...

Someone to tell him he's okay.

Somebody to hold him and let him know he's still loved.

Something to guide him, to help him mend his mistakes.

Klaus isn't that person but he wants to be.

Luther gets up and brushes the dirt of his back. Despite nearly meeting his demise a few moments ago hes looking rather smug. He’s batting for the right team and he's just won by default.

Who cares? It shouldn't be like this.

Ben pats Diego's back and Diego buries his face in his neck. He cries like a helpless child, occasionally saying a slurred 'sorry' here and there. Vanya is on the other side of Diego whispering sweet soft words to him.

Luther doesn't comment in favor of giving Klaus a dirty passing glance.

So much for Klaus being that person for Diego.

————————————————————

Sweet, innocent, and beautiful Grace.

Klaus passes by her while she's doing laundry and he offers to take the laundry basket. To 'put in his dirty clothes his self' She nods, and he brings it to his room.

Upon entering his room he shut his door and starts digging through the basket until he hits something cold and hard. He pulls out a bottle labeled 'Dimenhydrinate' not the best but he's had worse. He doesn't complain because there isn't a whole lot of over the counter drugs that he could hope to get in this house.

He replaces his bottle in his drawer, removing the label and stuffing it in the old bottle. He throws the old bottle in the basket covering it with his bloodied clothes.

He walks out and hands the basket back to Grace. Perfect grace who warmly thanks him. His mother whose main purpose is to love him and his siblings in ways his father can't.

She's too sweet.

She walks away leaving nobody even slightly aware that a transaction took place.

She will take the clothes to wash them and Dispose of his evidence.

This is traitorous behavior.

Diego would forsake him if he survived the beating he'd get If Diego found out.

Allison's door opens and he glances over. She sends a dirty look, her arm bandaged and his guilt skyrockets.

He's a terrible person.

————————————————————

Klaus doesn't have a lot of dignity left.

He is on his knees, his head is on top of his arms that lay on the floor. He is begging on all fours, like a dog. A goddess stands above him, examining him, unsure of if they should be angry or concerned.

"Allison, please forgive me." He feels her gaze burn through him. He's given no explanation for his previous actions Towards her. He's not sure if he knows the reason himself although he believes it was because she got close. Way too close. Even so he knows that every time he looks at her arm, bandaged up, he feels a ping of guilt.

He should, he's been a real dick.

"I'll do anything you want if you forgive me. just tell me what and I'll do it." He looks up meeting her gaze hoping to portray his guilt in his face.

It must work. She sighs and leans down, getting on his level. They keep eye contact and she stares directly into his soul.

"Let me do your makeup."

She makes her demand and Klaus doesn't argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t even with him right now.
> 
> I just wanna write happy Klaus but all I have is sad pessimistic Klaus.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus living his dreams only to have them crushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Heavy Rape/Non-Con]
> 
> This was supposed to be a fluffy flashback chapter about klaus and grace. It didn’t fit in so you’re stuck immediately into this heartbreak.

"Hey now, slow down there. Keep that thing away from me."

"That’s not happening, come here." Allison shakes her head as a lopsided grin forms on her face. She holds a bright pink dress in her hands.

"You said you're doing my makeup, we aren't playing dress up."

"Don't be shy now Klaus," she shakes the dress in her hands "you know you wanna."

Of course he does it would be a dream come true but he can't break this easy. It's only been what? Two days at most and he's been wearing these nice itchy suits. They're great he's not even considering going back.

Except he really wants to.

A dress for real? He's always wanted to wear one but Allison always been a priss about them. They're so fragile and beautiful that he'd ruin them. He won't. He'll take really good care of that one. He grabs it and begins changing.

Goodbye shirt, goodbye pants, and hello freedom. They meet again at last.

Allison screeches like some sort of fan girl before cooing over him."You're so adorable!"  She gives him a hug and looks him over.

She's already done his eyes with a bright pink eye shadow and his lips are painted red. He doesn't need to look in the mirror to know he's looking good.

"Now for the finishing touch..." she walks around him and fishes for something under her bed. She pulls out a shoe box, from an expensive looking store. she opens it revealing pink heels.

Nope.

He's gone, out the door and into the hallway. that's the biggest nope if there ever was one. He fell down the stairs once and broke his jaw because of heels. The experience was ten out of ten but he's not interested in repeating it a second time. At least not right now, he has enough problems as it is.

"They're only one inch! You'll be okay!" She yells after him but he's already on the stairs. Then he spots Reginald and knows he can't let him see him like this.He stops mid-step to turn around but trips on his own feet and falls down the rest of the stairs.

God damn it he's so clumsy. He doesn't need fancy heels to kill himself. Definitely considering he's landed at the bottom of his father's feet, looking like he just walked off a drag queen magazine.

He can feel his father's gaze but doesn't dare raise his head. He knows he's a major disappointment without looking at his father's face. He notices another set of feet and immediately glances up, knowing they're familiar.

Very fucking familiar.

Mr. Smith is causally standing behind his father, looking at him like he's just a slab of meat. He's not.

It's a moment dragging into two and his father is still silent. What's he waiting for? Usually he's given hell for wearing a skirt but a dress... he wouldn't be surprised if he's disowned entirely and left chained to a grave stone in some cemetery.

He can hear his father's condescending voice in his head 'How disgraceful Number Four, you're an embarrassment to me'. He waits for the words but they never come. His father doesn't scold him instead he chooses to throw him to the wolves.

"Please escort Mr. Smith to your room." That's it. That's all he said before turning and walking off.

He walks up the stairs with Smith trailing behind knowing this is stupid. He's about to let it happen again. It's his fault it's going to happen again. 

He doesn't want this.

With every step he's closer to his room and closer to the lion's den he's creating.

He needs help.

He wants help.

Allison is walking with the heels still in her hands, she was probably going after him. She stops when she sees him and opens her mouth to say something before noticing Smiths presence. She clams right up.

He needs her.

He walks over to her and gives her a hug then whispers in her ear "help me." and he pulls back. She sends him a questioning look but he doesn't elaborate. He walks into his room with Smith, leaving the door open. 

Smith closes it.

"Sorry my sister and me had a little fight. Had to make up somehow." He chuckles and Smith smiles at him.

"Having six siblings is rough, huh?"

"Yeah" he hums and takes a seat on his bed, Smith sits beside him apparently not even going to pretend he's teaching him something. 

It's happening again.

Smith places his hand on Klaus's knee and rubs circles before letting his finger tips travel under his dress.

He hates this so much. If he wasn't dressed like some two cent whore he could have thought that Smith was just some sick bastard. He can't now, It's all his fault again.

Because he's dressed like this.

His flight and fight responses malfunction because he's not feeling either. He's so overly calm it's terrifying but he cant put a finger on why. Is it because when something's your fault you take the hand that's dealt to you?

He's pushed down on the bed, he closes his eyes. He doesn't want to see this again. He can feel the heat from the older man on top of him. That smell that he hates so much is surrounding him.

His face is being caressed and his neck is being peppered with kisses over the hickies that started fading. A hand trails up and over his boxers, rubbing with the hands of a adult.

It's sickening.

"No." he whispers weakly but it makes him feel so empowered even if only for a moment. Smith pauses in his actions and grips his dick hard enough to leave bruises. He's forced to yelp before bitting his lips.

"Now now," Smith purrs in his ear. "Let's not get mouthy." He releases his grip before rubbing almost apologetically. A hand pushes his dress up to his chest and the cold air makes him shiver.

This man is insane. He talks like it's completely unreasonable for Klaus to not want this. As if him speaking up is a bad thing. It can't be because this can't be his fault.

He looks over Smith's shoulder at the camera. Is Reginald on the other side taking notes? Is he writing down when he breaks? When it becomes too much? Or is he interested in seeing his own son cum in the hand of a old man? Just the mere thought of his father being behind this makes his chest constrict and it's suddenly harder to breathe.

His father has never been great at parenting. He's harsh in his words and some of his punishments are questionable but he's never been this physical towards them. Why now?

Why is he being punished like this? What did he do? Is it because he started taking drugs and slacking in his training? Or is it because he gave up on his grades?

Was he just picked at random? Could it have been anyone?

His blood runs cold at the thought of any of his siblings being forced to go through this. He'd never forgive himself if they endured this trauma. If he wasn't able protect them.

He takes in a breath through his mouth, he had forgotten that he in fact needed to breathe.

Smith takes this as an invitation to put a finger in his mouth. It tastes nasty and he thinks about biting down in protest. He imagines tasting blood and hearing smith scream in pain.

What is this animalistic desire burning in side of him? He wants to tear into smiths throat with his teeth and watch him bleed to death. Maybe even lick some of his blood off of him.

God, what's wrong with him?

Smith removes his finger, now drenched in his saliva and puts it in his boxers. He prods at his entrance and he clenches up. He closes his eyes again and he holds on to his sheets. The action makes his wrists ache but he ignores it. He needs to do this in order to ground himself in reality.

Smith's finger breaches his entrance but it doesn't hurt that bad. He imagined more pain, always figured it was an painful experience. It's a weird feeling. Like somethings where it doesn't belong. Smith pumps his finger inside and Klaus rips his sheets.

Where's Allison? Where's his help? He can't do it on his own. He's afraid that she's not coming back for him. That she's misunderstood him because he was vague. Or maybe she decided he was over reacting, that he'd be fine. That he was probably joking around. If she isn't coming for him he better accept his fate. 

He's not ready for any of this. He's not supposed to be ready.

He tries to disconnect from the situation, something he's good at doing. It shouldn't be smith doing this. He wants to find a nice man someday. A man to love and cherish him. They'd get pancakes every morning and maybe adopt a kid or two. Okay they'd settle for a dog, or cat if he was convinced. In any case they'd be happy together.

Another finger prods at his entrance and begins pushing in.

Holy shit. Ouch!

This is the pain he expected. It sends shock waves up his back and he starts shaking. He's going be broken by this man. Nobody will ever want him after Smith has him. 

His fantasy is ruined. 

His salivas dried up and he's being fucked raw by two Meaty fingers while another hand rubs his chest. A sharp pain keeps shooting up his back and tears prick at his eyes. His vision blurs and he hears smith pant. He's rubbing up against his leg, getting off while doing something so disgusting.

Smith tries pushing a third finger in but it's too tight. It's not going to work but Smith makes it work. It starts entering him and he's terrified that...

That he'll never heal from this. 

That he'll have to live his life knowing he allowed this to happen.

That he'll be dirty forever.

A knock sounds at the door and smith immediately stops. He rips his fingers out of him with such force that he involuntary lets out a scream. Smith holds a hand over his mouth to muffle it. In his entire life he's never experienced a pain this bad. His shoulders can't stay steady and he's holding a hand over his ass. His vision is still blurry but he makes out Smith's fingers when he removes his hands from his mouth. 

They are coated in blood.

That can't be his blood.

He puts a finger down to check for him self. It slips in easily now being that he's been forcibly loosened and it's well lubricated; he's definitely bleeding. Smith must have torn him and that's why it hurts so much.

It's quiet for a moment as he stares up at Smith, who's still hovering over him. Then as if on the drop of a dime the door is slammed open and he's greeted by the sight of his siblings.


	6. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus laying in his bed that he unfortunately made for himself.

Klaus had begun to think that this wasn't his fault. That this man had every screw loose you could have loose. He even thought he could blame this on his father and lift the burden from his heart.

He had thought all these things before his door opened. Before he saw the disbelief written on his siblings faces.

They probably can't believe that their precious brother would be in the situation. They are probably mad that he didn't fight back. That they had to walk in on this realizing he didn't scream for help.

They looked more broken then he felt. It might not be in the same way he was but he knows they are.

It's his fault, Everything is his fault.

It's silent for what felt like an eternity all that could be heard was breathing. He laid in his bed, makeup running down his face, his dress pushed over his chest and his own hand shoved in his boxers. Smith hovered over him, composing him self before sitting up on his knees.

Klaus takes the opportunity to move into the furthest corner of his bed away from his siblings. He closes his eyes and brings his knees up to shield his face. He places both of his hands over his ears, he can feel the blood coming out of him. It's unnerving to say the least. 

The pain he can tolerate but he's ruined the dress, Allison will never let him wear another one. He shouldn't have wore it with his filthy body in the first place. He should have known he would ruin it. He ruins everything he touches. He hears the muffled sound of Smith defending himself.

Smith doesn't need to defend himself. This is all Klaus's fault. He's strong enough to admit that to himself at least. His siblings can see it can't they? He opens his eyes because he wants to know.

Smith raises his hands, "This isn't what it looks like," he makes a calming motion at his siblings whose faces have contorted into anger. "He was feeling ill, I was checking him out."

His siblings start yelling all at once and he closes his eyes again. He can't make out who's saying what it's too loud. It reminds him of when he used to hear the dead.

"Checking him out?"

"What kind of sick twisted bastard would touch Klaus?"

"What hell is wrong with you?"

"He's just a kid."

"Your hands are covered in blood, is that Klaus's blood?"

It gets quiet and all he can hear is his own heart beating. If he could die on command he would. Just being able to melt into the walls would work. He doesn't want them to question him. Then he'll have to tell them that this was his fault and he doesn't want them to hate him.

if they didn't figure it out already, he let this man defile him.

What if his ass never heals and he's left loose forever? What if he's forced to wear a butt plug because he was torn so badly? It's terrifying to think about.

Nobody will ever touch him again. 

Nobody will be able to look at him without feeling sick.

He opens his eyes and drops his hands from his ears. He pushes up on his knees preparing to bolt for the door because he needs to escape.

A flight and fight response only triggered by his siblings. For some reason he saw them as more of a threat then Smith. He knows this is fucked up. That he should be running toward them not away from them but half his brain doesn't want to listen to him. Before he gets a foot off the bed Luther makes a move.

Luther yanks on Smitm’s tie and forces him off the bed and on to the floor. What is that idiot doing? It should be him on the floor begging for forgiveness. It should be but it isn't.

"What did you do to him?" Luther asks his voice harsh, demanding Smith to admit his sins. He ignores him.

Smith begins stuttering apologies instead but nobody's biting on them. Diego has a blade in one hand, Ben keeps holding his chest, and Allisons gaze could burn through solid rock. His siblings are a stubborn bunch and they looked dead set on ending smiths very life.

He doesn't mind the idea of Smith dying but his siblings can't do it. He knows as much as they want to. They just can't do it. He'd never forgive him self if it was his fault they did something like that.

Vanya climbs up on bed with him and tries to comfort him. He slaps her hands away and but she tries again and again. She's not giving in and he hates it. He doesn't want to be coddled like the victim he knows he looks like.

"I think I like you," Five coos at Smith from beyond the doorway, it makes Klaus shiver in the worst way. He walks in with a hand in his pocket and a free bandaged hang gesturing. "Would you like to take a walk with me?" He says and tilts his head to the side giving the impression of an innocent child.

Five is an innocent child with a major god complex.

He offers his hand to Smith and Smith actually goes for it. Diego slaps his hand down. "You're not leaving without shedding a little blood." 

"An eye for an eye." Ben agrees

Ding! Ding! Ding! 

He knows that sound as his siblings do. It's the sound that represents 'Umbrella Academy Missions'. They all flinch and look at each other with uncertainty written all over them. If they didn't go get ready... Reginald would make them regret it.

There’s no way Klaus is going even if he wasn’t hurt. He doubts there even is a mission, it's timing is very suspicious. Just another piece of evidence to put in his mind. Regardless Reginald couldn't do anything to him that could be worse than this but he could do a lot to his siblings.

It's going to be his fault that they get in trouble. If they don't go Reginald will tie them down and force them to train until they drop. Their punishments will be swift and severe.

Luther has a strange look on his face. His body is drawn to the door, he probably wants to leave. They all share that look, that same desire runs through their veins.

He knows because it runs through his. It screams at him to go, it beckons him like a moth to a flame. He can ignore that desire. He's been numb to it for a while.

His siblings are about to choose the Academy over him. They're about to abandon him. He tells himself he's okay with that. They have to go before Reginald decides their disobedience needs to be punished.

He needs to leave so they don't feel obligated to stay by his side. So they don't get in trouble.

He bolts for the door, he slips right by them in their state of shock and he keeps running. He can barely hear his siblings calling after him over the sound of the alarm blaring in his ears. Every step hurts like hell and he can feel blood run down his legs. He doesn't look back to see if he's leaving a trail or not. He'd always been taught that was a stupid move.

He runs right into the security room and shuts the door before locking it. He puts his back to the door, his legs shake underneath him and he can hear the blood dripping onto the floor. He slides down the door, and leans his head back against its cold surface.

His siblings pound on the door and beg him to come out. They keep yelling things at him through the door.

'Klaus we love you'

'Klaus we're here for you'

'Klaus you don't have to be afraid anymore'

'Klaus he's gone we swear'

'Please let us in'

He wants to tell them to go away but his throat hurts too much for yelling.  


————————————————————

Eventually they stopped trying and he's left in silence. He assumes they have given up and are going on this super important umbrella academy mission that is probably a set up. He sighs and feels a weight be lifted off his shoulders.

Being late is better then not going at all. 

He's imagining his siblings getting to hear Reginald’s scolding. 'There's no excuse for your tartness children' he can hear him scolding them in his head. He's gotten that scolding enough to know how it goes.

There's a distinct click that sounds just above him. It's metal on metal. A key has been asserted in the keyhole. The door opens and he almost falls backwards. He turns around and crawls backwards until his back hits the cold metal of a filing cabinet.

Reginald steps inside and peers down at him. He closes his eyes and stares down at his bloodied dress unable to face his father's gaze.

This man who has taken so much without a care. This man who's ruined him and insists on messing him up more. Everything is this mans fault.

At least Klaus wants to believe that.

He looks up and his father sends him an stern smile. A gesture that usually indicated that he was proud of him for something.

"Number Four thank you for your cooperation. I have concluded my research," He said before offering a hand to him. "Sorry for any discomfort you may have experienced."

That's all Reginald said and that's probably all he was ever going to get. he'd never get a real explanation nor a proper apology. Even so the weak apology was more then he ever expected and all of a sudden he questions everything.

Is an apology enough?

He knows it shouldn't be. In any universe a sorry could never make what happened okay. Still he can't help that this makes his heart ache and his eyes water. His body tells him the answer.

He takes the offered hand without much thought. He's pulled up and Reginald dusts him off. Then he's hit with that smell he hates.

It's the smell that exudes from his father. He was rarely ever close enough to smell it but if he was it was probably a bad experience. Which must be another reason why his body associates this old man smell to be so fucking terrifying.

He's always had this smell for as long as he could remember.

He's unsteady on his feet and Reginald helps guide him to the medical room. His siblings are missing, sent on a mission without him. Vanya appears almost out of thin air and holds his hand, a act which he would have scolded but his father is doing the same thing. 

If his father isn't even yelling at her he knows he can't be that dirty.

"I love you, it's all going to be okay." She whispers in his ear and it sends shivers down his spine. Terrifying shivers that are followed by hot flashes.

He wants to be comforted and cry his eyes out on someone's shoulder. He wants to let it all out and tell everyone this wasn't his fault. He has to confirm it with someone because he's still unsure himself.

His feet are getting get heavy and he's forced to lean on Vanya more. She doesn't seem to mind even as some of his blood gets on her. She doesn't even bat an eye at it.

She's never been one to join the battlefield but she's mastered the art of comforting wounded soldiers.

Klaus wishes he could be more like her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is depressing isn’t it?


	7. Part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus gets out of one hell but he can still feel the flames burning on his skin.

He's laying on a medical bed, his legs propped up and spread eagle like he's going to give birth. At his butt, grace has a finger inserted in him, probing and analyzing his insides. He doesn't want his mother to do this, it's disgusting but he refused to have Reginald do it.

So instead is father is sitting on the left side of him holding his hand and Vanya is sitting on his right-side holding his other hand. It's weird to have this kind of support.

It's definitely strange from his father. His father who has never thrown so much as a worried glance in his direction is suddenly acting like he cares. He's holding his hand and his face is reflecting...guilt? At least it's some sort of worrying.

The feeling of forgiveness is slowly fading away the more he's forced to sit by his side. He doesn't want to hate this contact that he's yearned. The father who has always seen him as a disappointment is caring for him and it's making him sick. This is just an act his father is putting on so that he's lulled into a false sense of security. Realistically Reginald's pity will only last so long before it goes back to how it always is. Reginald treats him like he's nothing more then a glorified lab rat.

If you forget all that it's also become clear that his father is too proud to apologize anymore then he has even if he has the decency to look remorseful about his actions. He probably sent his siblings away so that they didn't see his walls fall down. Even if it's only for this fleeting moment.

Grace curls her finger inside of him and he hisses. A tender spot. Her eyes flash a quick hue of blue then she's back to probing inside him.If it wasn't for those little stuttering movements you'd believe she was human. Another curl of her finger and he tightens his hold on Vanya's hand.

His dress is pushed up over his legs and it lays on his belly. His boxers have already been discarded so that grace could have better access to him. He wasn't offered a towel or anything to hide himself because of grace's worrying. So he's exposed for the world to see but he doesn't mind it. This is his family, if they didn't want to see they could look away, they did.

"Does it hurt?" Vanya asks him and he just gets that spark to reply something nasty like 'what do you think'. He doesn’t because he isn’t going to let his anger out on her.

"A little bit but I'll be back in tippy top shape in no time." he said in the most sing song voice he could manage but it was terribly hoarse.

Even so Vanya smiles down at him and he smiles back at her. His father is silent but he's observing their interaction. 

Grace pulls her finger out and wipes the blood off on a napkin. She's humming as she gets up to throw away the napkin before she rummages through a cabinet. She pulls out a needle already filled with a pink liquid.

"Don't worry you'll be just fine." She says while flicking the needle's end with her finger. That paired with her over happy voice makes the scene somewhat eerie.

"At most, you have an anal fissure, and a cut on your inner walls where most of the bleeding stemmed from. You'll heal up in a few weeks, don't worry." she leans the needle down, he closes his eyes before he's greeted by a sharp pain beside his entrance. "This will numb the pain for now but I'll get you proper medication soon sweetie."

She then takes a tube of some sort of cream from a metal table next to the medical bed. She squirts a little of the cream on her finger before smearing it along his entrance. By the time she's done he doesn't even feel it.

He opens his eyes and watches as grace gives him a world class motherly smile. He lowers his legs the best he can in his numbed state and she flips his dress down.

The numbness is spreading up his body and he's ready to sleep. To forget everything he's got to forget. Diego and Luther fighting, his pitiful attempt at rocking a dress, and a act which he won't name. The fact he hasn't eaten today doesn't deter him from attempting to sleep.

"Can I have a blanket?" He asks Vanya but his father replies.

"Yes."

His father is gone and back in a moment and a big pink fluffy blanket is thrown on him. His father walks off with Grace in tow and he's left alone with Vanya. He snuggles into the blanket and turns on his side to face her. She keeps rubbing circles in his hands and he's so ready to sleep.

He closes his eyes and she starts humming a familiar tune. Something he might have heard her play before on the violin.

All he knows for sure is he's comfortable and ready to forget.

Forget and move on.

————————————————————

A heavy weight is sitting on his chest. He opens his eyes and has to squint against the harsh lights of the infirmary. He looks down and sees Vanya with her head on his chest sleeping. As she breathes she blows a singular hair up and down.

She looks peaceful and he doesn't want to disturb her but he needs to pee and could use a bath. He wiggles out from under her attempting not to wake her.

It's by some miracle that he managed to do just that in his state. He puts the blanket underneath her head before turning off the light. He wobbles to the bathroom, the numbness from earlier already fading away leaving pain behind.

The hallway is quiet and he passes by windows that shines in moonlight. Did he sleep a long time? Or was it already dark when he was being looked at? No it couldn't be he hadn't even had lunch or breakfast but that's a different story. Regardless It's dark now and his siblings are probably coming back soon.

He opens the bathroom door and steps inside before shutting it. He stands in front of the toilet for a moment before realizing he's too unsteady on his feet for that. He sits and pees instead.

When he's done he stands and lets the dress fall to floor. He plugs the bathtub and turns on the hot water. He sits inside the tub as the water fills burning his skin, particularly his lower regions.

He doesn't mind the burn. its a good way to make sure he's clean. His skin turns bright red and everywhere he touches stings. The bandage on his wrist is soaked so he peels it off. The cut has scabbed, it looks deep and it's probably going to scar. He lays both his wrist side by side to compare them. 

He's unsymmetrical now, another way he isn't perfect. He could remedy this problem though. All he needs is something sharp and to dig it into his unscathed wrist. He could watch the blood pour out with the satisfaction of knowing he's symmetrical.

He plunges his hands into the water in one quick motion. He shuts his eyes and tries to forget all of that. He can't think like that, he doesn't want to do something stupid like that again.

He lays down, keeping his eyes closed as water fills the tub.Steam heats the room and it's quiet. So quiet he can hear crickets chirp outside and his stomach occasionally growling. He won't fight it now, it was nobody's fault but his own for why the family meal times were interrupted. Luther and Diego's fighting ruined breakfast and then the rest of the family left before lunch and dinner so they are probably fighting on a empty stomach. 

It's all his fault but at least he's in the same boat.

He pushes the hunger to the back of his mind because he has so many other questions. He wants to know what his father was getting at. What was the point of everything? Who was in on it? Why did his father pick him? Was there even a reason? Where did he find smith? What did he tell smith to do?

'Here's Number Four, have fun with him' just the thought makes him frown.

It's hard to tell why his father does much of anything. He's a solitary man whose only friend is himself. He never talks anything but business or lets anyone in. He mainly walks around with his eye glass on and a book in his hands. A little journal of lies and research his father has come to document. At least that's what Klaus has come to believe as of recently.

It probably has these answers he's been searching for. Even if that's true he doesn't know if he's willing to put his neck out to find out the truth. In fact it's probably for best that he doesn't know everything.

He shuts off the water and leans back huffing. He's so stupid and selfish, probably more childish than anything.

He's spend so much time trying to blame himself, or anyone for what happened but it doesn't matter. It could really be his fault for all he cares. All that matters is what happen happened and there's nothing that can change that.

It's terrible that he even has to give himself these pep talks.

One moment he's believing with his heart that his life is ruined. That's he's broken beyond repair. The next moment he's fine and it's like it doesn't even matter anymore. There's something wrong with him but at this point what isn't.

He sighs and lets himself sink into the water. He's submerged in water that floods his ears and makes them ache. He waits for nothing in particular just the onset feeling of his lungs constricting. He opens his mouth and little air bubbles form and leave him, they make little popping noises as they reach the water's surface.

He's drowning but he's okay with that.

It's nice and relaxing. Nothing matters at this moment, nothing in the whole wide world. As everything gets dark and quiet he wishes he could stay.

He bolts up right and coughs water out of his lungs. He rubs circles on his chest and pants, breathing in air he definitely needs.

Dancing with death has never felt more therapeutic.

————————————————————

Walking out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel he's greeted by grace who has taken apart his bed. She's taken his blankets and sheets off and has folded them.

"I'm going to wash these dear." She said as she walks by him with her hands full. How much does she know?Did she know from the start what was really going on?

He hits his head against the back of his hand. He's an idiot. He's got to stop thinking about it like everyone is out to get him.

He turns and walks into Diego's room and falls onto his bed. He lets a hand dangle over the bed and it searches underneath. He hears the tell-tale sign of plastic and knows he's hit it. The bag of candy that Diego totally didn't get by being a suck up to grace.

He pulls out a lollipop, his mouth starts salivating before he even takes off the wrapper. He takes the wrapper off and sucks on it, tasting root beer and leans back letting himself rebel in this feeling.

It's too much and not enough.

He's been so messed up lately he hasn't been able to think straight. Trying to find a scape goat has consumed him for the past few days . In the end that isn't what he should be doing. He needs support and a hand to hold. At least that's what he thinks he's supposed to need.

He feels like he's supposed to be more messed up. at this point he feels utterly normal. It's not like he's changed all that much, maybe he's a little paranoid but he'll get over it. It hurts to walk but he'll heal.

It's like when he realized 'oh hey it's over' his mind stopped panicking. As if his body was taken over by such a strong sense of relief that it off balanced him.

He knows that when he remembers the moment he's scarred. He doesn't want to go through it again. He doesn't have to, it's done.

In a few weeks it'll be like nothing even happened. 

Is this why is father chose him? He's already so messed up that he can brush this off. All Because he's a no good druggie who's only aspirations in life have to do with weed and pills. He's better on drugs and he knows someday that's going to catch up with him.

It’s starting to even now because there's no reason he should think of this so lightly. That thought isn't lost on him, Someone should really slap some sense into him. He knows he needs it.

He flips to lay on his belly and kicks his feet.

Impatiently waiting for something.

Anything at all.

He's never been left home without his siblings. He's always been part of the fast life of the academy. He never really contributed much on missions but nonetheless they were fun. Interesting if nothing else.

He doesn't know how Vanya can stand staying in this house alone all the time. It's so lonely and depressing on a personal level.

He takes the lollipop out and swirls his tongue around it before putting back in. He throws the blankets over himself as his towel falls away and slides off the bed to land in a pile on the floor.

He wonders what his siblings must think of him.

————————————————————

When he finishes his lollipop he's still in Diego's bed naked but covered with blankets. He's not interested in moving now that the drugs have worn off almost completely but he knows he needs another fix. If he waits too long he'll start hearing the undead speak and he doesn't need that. The pills in his room will work for the time being.

His ass burns and every shift brings sharp pains up his back. Holy shit why didn't someone tell him it'd hurt this bad? He brings a arm up and lays it across his eyes. He takes in a deep breath before sitting up.

God he wants to die.

He stands fully naked and looks down at the towel on the floor. It's too much work to bend down and pick it up. It's not like anyones home so he's not even going to try. He stumbles though the door and wobbles as best as he can into the hallway.

He really needs to get to his room and down a handful of pills. They'd make him feel so much better. He can already imagine the numbness it'll bring him.

He's almost to his door when he hears his sibling's chattering. They must have returned, at the worst time possible he might add. 'It's not like anyones home' those are definitely the famous last words that jinxed him.

He tries to wobble faster but it ends up having the opposite effect when he falls on his ass.

Ouch! This is fucking terrible. He really doesn't need anymore butt injures.

He just manages to push himself on his knees when his siblings come into view.

Luther chatting to Allison, five on the other side of him critiquing something stupid he did during the mission. Diego tries to interject in the conversation but he's apparently not allowed. Ben stands on the outer edge drenched in blood, his eyes staring lifelessly ahead.

Guess that rules out that this mission as a ruse to get them out of the house.

When they spot him they immediately stop their chattering in favor of gasping. Luther instinctively throws a hand over five's eyes and Allison looks away. Diego stares in disbelief as Ben gives him a disconnected glance.

"I'm not a child, stop treating me like one," Five tries to pry Luther's hand away. "If anything I should be covering your eyes." Nobody else makes a sound.

Despite the situation, he finds himself wanting to laugh. So he laughs, feeling a sense of relief come over him. "You guys crack me up." He said between laughs before coughing and putting a hand on his chest trying to catch his breath because laughing and breathing don't go together.

Five teleports away from Luther and raises his bandaged hand to his face to hide a blush. It's adorable and only makes the situation all that funnier. The laughter makes his pain bearable probably due to the adrenaline.

Allison opens her mouth but whatever she said is cut off by the sound of a door being slammed. He glances at the shut bathroom door but it's pointless to chase after Ben.

He stands up, the pain temporarily numbed from his laughter. He ignores his sibling and walks into his room. He grabs the bottle of pills and downs a few. Sweet relief is coming soon, he can't wait.

"Klaus." Allison says sweetly behind him but he doesn't turn to face her. He instead face plants on his bed, his body sends aches inside of him in protest but he just covers up. Not tired but not at all interested in talking to his siblings.

"Don't shut me out," Allison sits on the side of his bed. Luther stands beside her but it's not because he cares. In all honesty he's probably still pissed at him. He might have seemed on his side before but now the lion is gone and with it went the pity. Klaus turns to face away from them, Allison places a hand on his back. "Can we talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about." Klaus said, and it comes out with more bite then he intended. Even so he makes no move to take it back.

"Told you." Luther's voice comes through and shatters his very soul. What the hell is with that? When they went off on the mission did they discuss the legitimacy of what happen? Did Luther come to the conclusion that whatever the fuck happened to him was his idea of a good time? News flash it wasn't.

He can't blame him though. He understands that if he doesn't talk about it they won't know. They won't be-able to understand what he's going through or how he feels. That's fine, he doesn't want them to know.

"If he doesn't want to talk about it you can't force him." It's fives voice of reason from far off. It's sound almost makes Klaus turn around, he sounds like he's in pain. He doesn't turn around but he wants to.

"But..." Diego butts in but it ends there. They have to know that Five is right, if he's not going to talk about it on his own, forcing him will only make it worst. He just wants to be alone.

He doesn't respond to any of their pleading and eventually they get the hint and leave. 

He's left alone. He stares at his wall, upset at himself because at this point nothing he does makes any sense.

————————————————————

His door creaks open and Ben peers inside. Now dressed in pajamas, he looks fresh. He walks to his bed side and stares at him in a silence plead. He sighs and slides against the wall to allow room for Ben.

Ben climbs in not at all minding the fact that Klaus is indeed naked. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't question Klaus and Klaus doesn't question him. It's a nice silence.

A general understanding is reached at least.

Ben lays on his side, facing the door. It isn't long until his breath evens out and he's asleep. Summoning a other worldly being will do that to you.

Klaus turns on his side facing the wall and wraps the blanket between his legs to soothe some of the ache. His back is hot from Ben's body heat but it's nice considering the house is always cold.

It'd be nice if they had eggs for breakfast tomorrow.

————————————————————

He awakens in a dark room, it's not a surprise considering he basically slept yesterday away. He lays on his back and presses his legs together.

He's itchy and irritated. A sore is healing so it's to be expected but still. Why him? 

Ben mumbles something underneath his breath before turning on his back too. He's awake, go figure.

"You know I've always hated it," Ben whispers so quiet that Klaus almost questions if it was meant for his ears. "This monster that lives inside of me, you know?"

He nods because he doesn't know what he's supposed to say.

"It's powerful, disgusting, and every time it kills someone and I'm covered with blood... I just," His voice fades out by the end of the statement. His brows furrow and he brings a hand up to ruffle his own hair.

"I feel like a monster."

"You can't judge something like that, only other people can tell you what your faults are because your own perspective is pretty warped." Klaus said making sure to look away, being deep isn't really his thing. Ben doesn't say anything back not even a 'really' or a 'that isn't helping Klaus'. He says nothing at all.

"There's a difference between you and it. You don't have to be a monster just because you think it is." Klaus says to try to remedy his last statement. Ben nods and turns away.

It's silent again and he's left alone in it. His heart aching at Ben, somehow believing that he's a monster.

Ben isn’t a monster, he’s klaus’s everything. A hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on and most importantly the best brother Klaus could ever hope for.

————————————————————

Breakfast has never tasted better to him.

Grace produces eggs, pancakes, and bacons with the hands of a professional. Everything is delicious and he devours it all without all the dilly dally that he usual does. His siblings do the same, obviously as hungry as he was.

They eat in a silence but it's different because their father isn't here. He and Luther walked off just before breakfast. Luther's giving him a briefing of what happened on the mission, how everyone performed and of course he's probably making himself out to be some hero. Ugh, Luther has a terrible ego.

Klaus doesn't acknowledge any of the glances he's getting. Someone kicks his foot and who ever it is a asshole because it send sharp pains from his ass all the way up his back. He'd get revenge if everyone wasn't already a little pissed at him. He shovels his last piece of bacon in his mouth and hums quietly. He looks up only to notice that Ben hasn't touched his food.

He's staring at it but it barely looks like he's even picked at it. Ben looks up and catches him staring, he pushes his plate towards him in offering. Klaus is hungry enough to take it even though he knows Ben hasn't eaten in a day.

He wouldn't let this good food go to waste.

Ben leans back in his chair and rubs his head. Klaus eats the food without question and it makes his stomach stop it’s rumbling.

After devouring the second plate he glances over to Allison, her arm is un-bandaged now and he can see the cut he gave her. It doesn't look that bad in fact it doesn't even look worthy of the bandages she had on it. If he didn't know better he'd say she bandaged it just for attention or maybe she just wanted him to feel bad. Either way it kinda ticks him off that Luther went off on him about that superficial cut.

He takes a deep breathe and looks away. The whole situation is water under the bridge now because he apologize and she accepted. They are good and he's not going to get angry.

He glances to five now, he's eating pancakes. Five's face is twisted in a terribly painful way, and sometimes little noises fumble out of him. He clamps up, clearly upset at these little signs of weakness he's showing. His hand is bandaged and rightfully so, he had a knife go clean through it. He had to have gotten stitches and should probably be on some kind of pain medication but by the way he's looking Klaus doubts he is.

That was probably his punishment for interfering, living through the pain. If Klaus had stepped in before five had to he wouldn't be hurt.

He looks away because he can't stand the thought that he might have been able to prevent that. He looks at Diego, Grace is standing at his side and they're talking about something. It's small hushed whispers and it's kinda irritating. What are they talking about? He wants to know but knows he has no right.

He imagines that Grace must know that everyone's a little upset at Diego right now, that he almost killed Luther and he isn't going to be her perfect little boy forever. He smiles at her and every time he answers it's full of stuttering. He's providing a illusion of being innocent.

It works perfectly on grace, her motherly instincts crave that kind of response. Its sickening, he looks over to Vanya. She throws him a smile and he throws one back out of respect.

The sound of footsteps make everyone straighten up. Grace goes back to the stove and flips a pancake. Luther enters the room but Reginald isn't with him.

"Father wants to see you in his office, Klaus." He said, giving a small smile before lowering his gaze to the floor. Something tells him that whatever they talked about wasn't good. He stands and as he walks past Luther he's pulled back into a hug. 

Luther is giving him a fucking hug.

His skin crawls at the sudden contact but he doesn't fight it, instead he raises a hand to Luther's back. "What's wrong?" He whispers to Luther and then Luther pulls away but doesn't meet his gaze.

"I'm so sorry, please forgive me." He doesn't look back at him. His heart pounds in his ears, he doesn't understand. "Please know I didn't mean for this to happen." He whispers and pulls him in for a tighter hug and then lets him go. He walks away without letting Klaus say anything to him.

Luther sits at the table and stares at his plate. Everyone stares at him, wanting answers but he offers none. He refuses to meet their eyes. Klaus walks away, his legs are wobbly and with every step he feels the impending doom. Luther has never apologized to him like that before and... it is fucking terrifying.

It's a new level of terror and he's half tempted to go the bathroom before he meets his father because he's probably going to piss himself.

To think his father's pity would run out so soon. It makes him wonder what the hell his father's heart is made out of. He reaches the office door, closed in a clear sign of 'do not enter'. He knocks on the door and his father's voice comes through.

"Come in, Number Four."

He opens the door and is immediately hit with a smell he's never smelled in the house. 

Cigarette smoke. 

There's no way in hell his father smoked a cigarette right?He can't believe that his father would Willingly smoke in the one room he keeps clean enough that you could eat on its floors. His father is sitting at his desk, His hands crossed on his desk and his face is drawn in the most serious look. He looks likes he's in an important business meeting and that's never good.

He takes a step inside before noticing another person. A woman standing off to the side, the door obscured her from his view. She's wearing a skimpy dress and plenty of make-up. She gives him a smile, her teeth are starting to yellow. She eyes him up before throwing his father a glance.

"Isn't he a little too young?" She said, her voice is hoarse but it’s more youthful then he would have figured.

"Does it matter? You're getting paid." Reginald said, he sounded irritated. Not that it mattered to Klaus because all he got out of that was that she is getting paid. For what? Why is she here? Why is he here?

He takes a step back, preparing himself to run even though he knows he could never will himself to. She scoffs and turns to face him, her hair golden locks scattered and he got a good look at her eyes. They are beautiful, hazel drops of sunshine. 

So fucking beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is everything I write heartbreaking. I’m working on a couple other TUA storylines that I’ll be starting to upload too. They are so depressing, I’m starting to think the only stories I can write are sad, tearjerkers.


	8. Part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s cold outside... and inside.

How many words could he come up with to describe those eyes? He started with beautiful but they are so much more. Magnetic? Magnificent? How about desirable? He couldn't decide which one fit more.

Reginald gets up from his chair, and starts guiding them out of the office, down stairs and into the main hall. He doesn't really register all of this because he's still trying to decide which word he liked better. He's leaning towards magnetic, you want to stare at them after you've seen them once.

"Where is he going?" Five's voice brings him back to the present. All of his siblings are standing on the side of the main hall and Grace is in front of them, as if trying to shield them from something. Luther kicks five's foot and locks eyes with Reginald, he looks away and doesn't formulate any sort of answer.

Reginald places a hand on his back and hers, lightly pushing them to the main house door. He opens it then pushes them out, and gives them what amounts to a smile. "Number Four, please do be on your best behavior." He goes to shut the door but he stops half way. "Your curfew is at eight pm, on the dot. If your late the doors will be locked and you will sleep on the sidewalk. No exceptions." He slams the door in their face.

It's cold, winter air blows past them and her skirt blows with it. He looks away, uninterested in seeing what's underneath. She's not dressed for the cold weather, even in his suit he can feel it. She starts walking and he follows.

She walks only a few feet until she reaches a car parked along the sidewalk, she goes to the driver's side and gets in. Apparently she didn't lock the car doors. He gets in the passenger side and stares out the window. She lights a cigarette, and it's smoke fills the car. She starts the engine, lowers the window and drives off.

Where are they going? He's never been outside the house without Reginald's watchful eye unless it was Umbrella Academy work. It's strange, really concerning even. If she's going to do something like Smith did, it makes sense Reginald would want them out of the house and away from his siblings.

"My name's April by the way." she said, smoke blows out with each syllable. "What's yours?"

He opens his mouth to answer but nothing comes out. Should he say Number Four or Klaus? If she's going to report back to Reginald, he should probably use what his father calls him.

"My name is Number Four." He said and her eyes lit up and she hit her hands off the steering wheel. She started laughing, and she brought up the hand with the cigarette to her mouth, to muffle her laughs. He thinks that's dangerous, for a lit cigarette to be so close to your face like that, but he doesn't state his concern.

"Sorry... God, that's terrible. Who names their child after a number? I mean I'm named after a month but come on. April is pretty at least!"

"Yeah, it really is terrible isn't it." He leans his head on the window and stares out.

Her laughter fades away and she's left with a smile. She turns on the radio and some country song is playing. He doesn't really listen, he instead watches his surroundings. 

He shifts in his seat, the suit is terribly irritating his bottom. He bites his lips and stares out the window, trying to distract himself. What is Luther so fucking sorry about? Just what kind of torture is he in for?

————————————————————

They've stopped at a building he recognizes, it's a small commercial mall. It's practically the only one in town, and as such he's been here Christmas shopping. Of course it was with his father watching him and his siblings.

April steps outside the car and he does the same. She stretch's her arms above her head and peers over at him. 

"Where do you want to go first?"

"Huh?" He said back dumbly, obviously they were at a mall but he didn't think they were shopping or that he would get a choice in the matter. Isn't she supposed to pull him off in a dark bathroom somewhere or something like that?

"Don't stare at me like that. You keep looking at me like I'm about to kill your dog."

"Sorry, I don't really think that."

"It's fine, I'm picking first then." April said before she starts walking off and he follows behind. She walks until she reaches a store she likes, the sign behind the glass reading 'Victoria secrets'. Allison likes this place but he's never really shopped here. He follows her inside even though he knows he doesn't fit in here.

Bras line every wall, there are a few racks of sweatpants and sweaters, and perfumes scattered around the store. April goes to a rack of sweaters, and he starts smelling the perfumes.

The first one he picked up is bright pink with glitter specks floating around. He takes a white card that they provide so you can spray the perfume, and smell it. He sprays it, it smells nice but the glitter comes out, Reginald wouldn't like his house filled with glitter.

He picks up another perfume bottle, it's light blue and it has stars pasted on its casing. 'Nighttime shivers' sounds like the name of a low budget horror movie. He sprays it on another white sheet and smells it. It's really sweet with a subtle hint of lavender. He wouldn't mind smelling like this. He picks a bottle off a shelf, and then searches the place for April.

April is picking through sweatpants now, in her left arm is a few different sweaters. He walks over to her and she gives him a smirk. She holds the sweaters in front of him and jingles them. 

"Which one is prettier? Come on, be honest now." 

One was blue but it had the brand name 'pink' written across its middle. It's sleeves's ends were bunched in a weird way. It's an absolute no.

The other one was pink, it had hearts on its shoulder all the way down its sleeves. On its the middle was written 'I wear my heart on my sleeve', it wasn't something he'd wear but it was better then the other sweater.

"The pink one definitely, I think It’d suit you."

April places it in-front of her body and turned around to face a mirror. "You think?" She said, eyeing up her reflection in the mirror. He nods and she smiles before she discards the blue sweater on a table of underwear, where the sweater obviously didn't belong.

April puts the pink sweater on her arm, and picks out a pair of sweat pants. He stands idly and waits until she's ready to pay. They wait in line and when they finally get to the cash register, she sets her clothes beside it and he adds his perfume. The woman manning the cash register scans each item and places them all in a bag. 

"The total is eighty nine dollars and seventy six cents." The woman said in a cheerful voice, obviously forced. 

"This place is always so expensive." April said as almost an after thought before she sticks her hand in her shirt, grabbing money she had hidden in her bra. He looks away, a little embarrassed at that. When he looks back she has a hand full of hundreds, much more then he would expect her to have. She takes one and hands it to the lady.

"Thank you, your change is ten dollars and twenty four cents." The woman hands back the change. "Have a good day, come again!"

He takes the bag and she gets the receipt. They walk outside the store and he itches his neck. A feeling of uneasiness is coming over him, this is too peaceful. They can't really be here just to shop right? Then what was that 'isn't he too young' crap she was saying.

"Now where to?" April said, pushing her hair behind her ears. Her eyes shine in the sunlight from a sunroof just over their head, her eyes really are something else.

"Why are we really here?" 

April stares at him, drops the smile and pulls a cigarette out of her bra. She lights it, not caring that they were in fact inside a building. 

"Well, you see, we're going to meet a friend of mine." April said to the air, avoiding his gaze. "He works at Spencers as a side job, but we're in the same line of work outside of that. I usually call him in when the work is too dirty for me. You know like piss fantasies or," she pauses and looks at him in the eyes. "Anything sexual with children."

"Jesus, you could have left it at "we're meeting a friend"" He makes air quotations before dropping his hands. He's gotta think positive thoughts, he might be as nice as her. He has to believe that who they meet is going to have some sort of conscience.

He thought he was done with this, that the 'research' was concluded. Didn't his father get everything he needed? What more could he possibly take from him that he hasn't already been taken?

He's in public, he could run, scream, beg someone for help. Anyone of these people giving April dirty looks, he could ask them for help. He can't do that, as much as he wants to, he's terrified of what his father might do. He tries to be cocky and he acts like he doesn't care about his father's punishments but he does.

His power is a curse, a down right fucking god send curse and Reginald uses that against him. He has a fear of the dead that have no right being as big as it is, at this point he might have a phobia.

"I'm not here to lie to you, I'm a prostitute, not a fucking pedophile." April said, curling her lip in disgust. "Your father is one sick bastard, I can't stand people like him." She puts her cigarette out on the bottom of her heel, and throws it into a nearby trash can.

"Come on." He follows April without protest but his body doesn't want to go. He isn't prepared, he isn't ready for whatever awaits him. She seems so nice and yet she's walking him to his death. Why is she doing this? If she hates those people so much why would she help them?

"Why?" It came out before he could stop himself. Tears are pricking his eyes and just wants to cry, but he doesn't want to cry in front of her. He rubs at his eyes and looks up at her. She's stop walking, only for a spilt second but then she continues.

"I've got a little girl at home, I have to provide for her. If your father didn't offer so much money I would have never taken the job."

"That isn't good enough."

"Excuse me." She turns on her heels and gives him a scowl. "What did you just say?"

"You can't hide behind having a child, that's not good enough, you're just giving yourself a excuse." 

April grabs his hand and yanks him close to her, the smell of cigarettes almost makes him gag. "I know that, I'm not stupid! How else am I supposed to accept what I'm doing? How am I supposed to sleep at night if I don't have a excuse? What do you think? That I'm just gonna go home and forget? I am not that heartless." She pronounces those late five words louder then the rest, almost screaming them.

April's breathing is erratic from her rant, she releases him before turning around and storming off, he follows behind the best he can. He doesn't say anything, doesn't throw her any more questions. He doesn't know anymore, he doesn't know what she's supposed to do or what he’s supposed to do. The world is upside down and it's all his father's fault.

This is all his father's fault, or Reginald's fault. Sometimes he doesn't know which he should call him. If he is capable of doing something this disturbing, does he deserve to be called his father?

Of course he has to call Reginald father, like he calls Luther his brother and Allison his sister even though they are terrible people. You love unconditionally, he's always believed that because in truth he's not much better then them.

Even though sometimes it's rough, they're family and good family is hard to find. He's already accepted it's full of problems and about everyone of them is all Reginald's fault.

He bumps into April, he was so deep in thought he hadn't noticed she stopped. "Wait here." She steps away and into a store, Spencers. He waits, not moving a muscle, his mouth is suddenly dry.

April returns, takes the bag and motions for him to follow, he does without question. He's led to a room in the back that is reserved for employees. The walls are lined with weird toys of a sexual nature, a singular chair sits in the center of the room and a man stands behind it, a can of beer in his right hand.

A grin appears on his face and he brings the beer up to his mouth, before sipping. He walks around the chair and puts his hand out, as if asking for a handshake.

He takes the offered hand and shakes. From up close he can see the man's name tag, Richard is a nice for a pedophile.

"Welcome to my humble abode." He lets go of the handshake and goes back behind the chair.

"If you would take a seat, we can get started." An innocent smile is thrown his way, he might throw up. It's sickening all of this. He sits down anyway, he doesn't have a choice and watches as April gives him a wave.

"I'll be right outside." April says as if that makes this any better.

He wants to die, like seriously die. Why wasn't he gifted the power to die on command, granted he probably would have used it a long time ago, but it would have come in handy right about now.

Richard walks around to stand in front of him, stares him down then drops on his knees. He runs a hand down his clothed dick, caressing it. Even in this suit, in all of its itchy layers can't block out that feeling. Then he brings his face down towards it, he tenses his legs when he feels a mouth against him. It's lips moving, sucking and leaving a wet spot in the fabric.

His dick twitches at the sudden feeling, he hates that his body reacts to this. This shouldn’t feel good, it’s supposed to be disgusting. Richard takes his zipper with his teeth, and starts unzipping his pants. He imagines this is supposed to be sexy or something but it isn’t. It’s down right bloodcurdling and he wants to run, or fight back. He can’t, his body won’t let him for whatever reason. So instead he goes with words.

"Please, stop." He said it softly, so Richard might think he was hearing things, like maybe his conscience speaking to him. Not that this will work, it doesn't stop because he wants it to.

It's a miracle, Richard stops almost immediately and pulls back. He wipes droll off of his mouth with the back of his hand before taking another sip of beer.

"Are you going to be alright, kid? Please don't puke on me."

"Am I supposed to be alright?"

Richard stares at him before shrugging his shoulders. He starts untying his shoes, the ones that he spend five minutes making sure were perfectly tied this morning. One shoe off, then another before he starts taking off his socks.

His stomach keeps on churning and it's a real possibility that he might throw up considering what he had for breakfast. If he threw up could he get out of this? He doubts it.

His socks are off and Richard takes a foot and puts it in his lap. He starts kneading it and pushes his fingers in deep, smooth motions. It tickles but in the same way it kinda of feels good.

What's the point? If he didn't know better he'd think he was getting a Massage. Richard rotates between his feet giving each proper attention.

"Not saying that I don't like this, but what are you doing?"

Richard looks up "Im giving you a massage, you weren't digging the whole blowjob thing, right?" He rolls his eyes and continues smoothing out the tension in his feet.

"Besides the client's request was really vague." He brings a hand up and points a finger at him. "If he doesn't like it he should've been more specific, you can tell him I said so." He pokes his stomach before going back to his feet.

"What did he request?"

Richard stops and lets his feet touch the floor, it's cold and hard. Richard stands and steps behind him, out of his view and for a moment he panics. two hands touch his shoulder, then they start moving, he's being massaged. He blows out a relived breath.

"I'm not supposed to say, we've got a privacy policy. It's a kind of no questions asked service. A nobody has to know about what goes on inside kind of deal." He rubs out a knot in his right shoulder, it feels great. He relaxes in the chair although it's wood is uncomfortable.

Then he feels it, a hot breath blows on his neck and then his ear. "But for you I'll make an exception." Richard blows air inside his ear and he clamps his eyes shut at the sudden feeling. "All he requested was," he pauses before continuing making sure to pronounce each word "make him feel good."

Richard pulls back and keeps massaging like that didn't just happen. What the fuck? What does that mean? Did his father really just want him to have a good time but picked the wrong people or was it the opposite. Did he hope these were a bunch of fucking psychopaths that wouldn't mind 'making him feel good'? 

As much as he wishes Reginald didn't have anything to do with this he can’t. Reginald has to know, he had to plan and pay for this. What does he want? What is he trying to gain from this? He wants to know but at the same time it’s probably a answer he’s better off not knowing.

Richard's hands move to his head, massaging his scalp, it feels great.

————————————————————

He's given a massage for a long time, Richard even rubs his arms and his hands a little, not that he's complaining. When it's done, he leaves the room and meets April who was talking up a customer. They leave in silence, she doesn't ask what happened and he doesn't tell.

April drives him home and he plays with the radio before giving up, there is nothing good on. He looks out the window at the passing trees, he sometimes catches glances of birds sitting on their limbs. Free, liberated birds who aren't caught in cages.

Nature is a real wonder.

Too soon, he's dropped off at his house. Home sweet home, he doesn't want to go home. He would happily never go home but he has no where else to go. He has no outside connections to the world to speak of because his father keeps him on a short chain.

He's always lived this way, there isn't any other way for him.

He knocks on the front door, knowing better then to just enter even though it's not close to being dark. When no one answers he sits on the steps and leans his head against the door.

What is he even doing anymore? What has he become? He's been given so much training and yet he never uses it, not even for self defense. He has to be the definition of a failure, no wonder his father hates him.

The door clicks, he leans his head off of it, and it opens behind him, he feels its presence leave his back. He doesn't turn around nor get up. 

He doesn't want to go inside.


	9. Part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things are better left unsaid and definitely better unseen.

"What are you doing?"

He sighs, turning his body to face Diego, "The usual, thinking about how much my life sucks." he said it in a serious manner but he doubts Diego is going to take it seriously. He turns back around to look at passing cars.

What is he doing? His father gave him until eight until he needed to come back. He could have avoided this place for awhile.

"What's new? Get in here you dork." Diego pulls on his arm, forcing him to stand, and keeps pulling him into the house. Diego is dragging him to the living room.

Five is sitting outside of it, surrounded by papers with messy almost illegible writing on it. he's has his head on his knees and he doesn't look at them as they pass. He knows he shouldn't but his eyes lock onto his hand. He is so naïve.

Would stitches really be enough for that wound? He doesn't know, he's blissfully unaware of how it really works. He doesn't want to ask because he might learn things he doesn't want to know. Aren't there nerves and tendons in your hand? They were probably damaged right?

It's all his fault.

What if Five can never use his hand the way your supposed to again? He'd always hold a grudge against him then, not Diego. It was his fault, Diego has probably already thrown most of the blame on him anyway even if he wont say so to his face. Otherwise Diego wouldn't be so peachy right now, so guilt free in his actions.

He brings his free hand up to his own mouth and his fingers prods his lips. He wants to chew on his nails but then he gets a good look at the living room and he realizes that...His siblings absolutely had a death wish, that has to be it. They all wanted to die, he's never related more to them. He drops his hands in favor of staring in disbelief.

In the living-room there is a large make shift tent set up, with blankets and kitchen chairs. Reginald in no way shape or form would sign off on something like this. No wonder Five doesn't want to be involved in this. Just what are they thinking?

Diego pulls him into the tent and he's greeted by the sight of Allison and Vanya throwing him the fakest smiles he's ever seen. He sits on a pillow between Diego and Ben, who doesn't acknowledge his existence. He looks at his siblings, all four of them because Luther and Five Aren't here.

"What are we doing?" He asks them because he doesn't like being stared at like this. It doesn't feel right. He turns to look at Ben because he trusts him not to lie to him. Ben is still in one of his moods because he doesn't give him any hints nor whisper in his ear that hey this isn't good. Ben gives him a glance then shrugs his shoulders and that's it.

Thanks a lot Ben.

"We are going to talk about it." Diego said as he places a hand on his back as if afraid he might run off. Which is honestly what he wants to do. He doesn't want to talk about 'it' now and definitely never.

"I already told you there's nothing to talk about." He picks at the fabric of his jeans, it's suddenly hot. He's probably blushing and that's a terrible look on him.

"Klaus listen..." Allison moves closer to him until she's sitting in front of him. She puts a hand on each side of his face and then leans in all glassy eyed and opens her mouth to say something. Diego's grip on his back increases, and those words he knows are starting to tumble out of her mouth...he won't let her do this. He stands abruptly, completely ruining the tent, it's blankets fall on his siblings and kitchen chairs bang upon impact with the floor.

"Don't play with me." He yells at his traitorous siblings. They all had some nerve. They were really going to let Allison rumor him, they had planned it. He's outraged, so fucking pissed and he just can't grasp this. He's supposed to be able to trust them and yet they were about to pry inside him without his consent.

His siblings don't look like they regret trying this. They wanted to look inside his head and they don't even care that it's tip toeing over his personal boundaries.

"I just want to understand!" Allison yells to him while shaking off blankets. She gives him a sad but somehow stern smile trying to bait him into breaking.

Diego rubs a hand down his face and looks away. Ben shakes the blankets off but doesn't comment. Vanya pushes herself up on her knees and stares him in the eye.

He's fed up with it, the lies and fake promises of love they keep throwing his way even though they usually don't care. Sometimes they don't even notice his presence and they have never taken him seriously, ever, not even now. If it had been any of his other siblings all hell would have broken loose by now. They don't care, they don't want to know and he doesn't want to be angry with them but they just keep pushing.

"You want to understand? You want to help? Grow up! I don't need your help, and I definitely don't want it! Don't you get it?!" He's yelling but he doesn't care if his father hears him. The chairs hitting the floors already alerted him that his children were doing something they weren't supposed to be doing.

His siblings are silent, they don't say anything else, there's nothing else to say. Then tears well up in Vanya's eyes and he realizes he's made a mistake. He hates it when his siblings cry but he can't stand it when it's Vanya.

He drops on his knees and gives Vanya a hug, he holds her tightly. "Forget it, okay? I didn't mean anything I said and I'm sorry for yelling. I'm just really stupid. I'll tell you soon I swear just...please stop crying." He pats her back and she sobs into his neck. He hates himself, and he hates this. He breaks too easily.

"I'm so sorry, I just thought..."  Vanya's voice fades away into uncontrollable sobs. It makes sense that this could have initially been her idea, she doesn't understand how Allison's power really works. Regardless everyone else went along with this and he can't forgive that.

Diego stands beside him and starts picking up chairs in silence. Soon Allison and Ben joins him and it's just him and Vanya in the center of this chaos he's created.

He should have let Allison rumor him.

"Children!" Everyone jumps at Reginald's harsh voice, Vanya's sobs quiet down. and he turns his head to see Reginald's scowl. He's angry, probably can't believe that his loyal subjects had the audacity to ruin his nice living room for even a spilt second.

"Who's idea was this?" He demands an answer from them but nobody speaks. He knows from experience that if no one fesses up they'll all get punished. Vanya's too innocent to be at the receiving end of Reginald's harsh hand.

"It was mine." He said, locking eyes with his father. Reginald knows that he hasn't been here, that this couldn't have happen in the short time since his return. Not that this matters to his father all that much, he's just looking for someone to make a example of.

"Number Four, do not take responsibility for other people's actions." His father Scolds before grabbing his wrist, the one with a healing scab drawn in a line and pulls him up, in the process yanking him away from Vanya. He grinds his teeth to avoid bringing attention to the fact that his wrist is still very tender. He doesn't want to admit this weakness to Reginald.

Reginald drags him away, and his siblings don't protest. They watch him go because they don't want to be punished either.

Vanya's a shaking mess on the floor, she knows she's to blame for this. He wishes he could tell her this isn't her fault, that there's nothing for to be upset about.

This is all his fault. If he would have told them from the start, they wouldn't have felt so desperate for answers. The anger he felt at first is already gone and replaced with guilt. He doesn't care anymore he forgives them.

He's dragged to center of the main hall, before his father stops abruptly. Grace is standing just off the kitchen giving him a glare, not that it matters. She has no say in this, she's never given a say in punishments.

If she were there wouldn't be any.

Grace's need to criticize Reginald's punishment only succeeds to make him angrier. His grip on his wrist increases and it fucking stings. It’s tight enough to leave bruises now, not that the force was needed. He'd never fight a punishment that's handed to him, he can't. He's been raised to never even attempt to, or even think about it.

The very idea is absurd. After all Reginald isn't a abusive person, he's never been, all of this is just tough love.

Reginald all of a sudden drops his wrist as if it was burning him. His father raises his hand and stares at it, there's blood on it. The wound on his wrist reopened due to Reginald's grip but he hadn't even noticed. He had figured the pain had come from his father's grip alone.

"Sorry." He mumbled even though he isn't really sorry nor knows what he's really apologizing for. It just feels like that's what he's supposed to say.

Reginald frowns and drops his hand rubbing the blood off on his nice suit. "Are you alright?" His father asks him and his heart stops. It skips beats in his chest, his father showing any sort of concern makes him feel weird.

It's unnatural for Reginald.

It's even more unnatural at the moment considering that Reginald has been the source for all of his recent suffering. He's even admitted so to his face and yet has the guts to act like he hasn't done anything wrong. That's just how Reginald is but that doesn't mean it's right.

"I'm fine." He says before his father grabs his hand and tilts it up, examining it. Blood drips down his wrist and runs along his palm but he's not worried about it. It's more of a nuisance at this point.

"This is a deep cut. Why isn't it bandaged? Do I have to do everything for you?" His father lectures him and gestures for grace to come over. She does without question and he tells her to grab a roll of bandages. He should probably go to the infirmary instead but his father most likely doesn't want another trail of blood on his floors.

"Clean that mess up." Reginald yells to his siblings who had just been standing around watching them. They immediately tense before they get a hold of themselves and start folding blankets and picking up chairs. Even Vanya stops her tears and starts helping. Her shoulders shake terribly though but the efforts there.

Five doesn't move from his spot in front of the living, in fact he hasn't even looked up this whole time. He has a sneaking suspicion that Five fell asleep sitting on the floor and that's kinda of adorable.

Reginald doesn't comment on Five's lack of help in cleaning up for a reason you'd be better asking a magic eight ball for.

Him and Reginald stand and wait, Reginald holds his hand and blood starts painting his finger tips. His father doesn't look like he minds it but he does. This better not come back to bite him in someway.

The moment drags on way too slow, this contact is lasting too long. It's too much and not enough. He's keeps telling himself to be positive and appreciate this kind gesture but he knows deep down there's more to it. 

There always is.

Just like he keeps telling himself his father is doing research, that everything he's done has some bigger purpose. In all reality his father may just be curious and decided to use him as a guinea pig. He may be just an experiment, a series of trial and error that may end up being meaningless. That thought unnerves him the most, the fact that everything that happened could have no meaning.

He may have suffered for nothing and he can't stand that thought. He has to think of it from a new perception. His father may finally be proud of him for something, or at least he's finally gotten some kind of positive recognition from him. Even if it's all meaning less and Reginald did it for his own enjoyment... he could live with that. Since Reginald might come to like him more in the long run.

At least he keeps telling himself this.

Grace returns with white bandages she starts wrapping it around his wrist while his father steadied his hand. This really is too much contact. The moment drags on until it's finally done and his father drops his hand and blows out a frustrated breath.

His father's anger has dissipated and he just looks tired now. The living room is cleaned up, the blankets are folded and his siblings are returning the chairs to their right places in the kitchen. The blankets will eventually make it back to where they belong. It will all be cleaned in a few short moments.

Grace returns to the kitchen to cook dinner, if she hasn't already started. Reginald looks at him, looks away then looks back and sighs. "You should try to be more independent." He gives half hearted advice before walking off.

He's kinda disappointed. Where's his punishment? There was a good minute of build up that got his adrenaline going and now he's just let down. What a complete drag.

Not to mention Reginald's parting words. Come on he's trying to be an independent rebel. Can't his father see his efforts in not caring?  isn't it exactly those efforts that made Reginald hate him in the first place?

A series of knocks sound at the door. Reginald stops in his tracks and begrudgingly turns around to answer the door. The door opens and it's someone he doesn't recognize, holding a box. His father and this man are chatting about something. He can't really hear them but it sounds positive at least.

He's curious, wants to get closer to hear what they're talking about but doesn't want to evoke his father's wrath. The wrath he just narrowly avoided. So he stays put and watches as his father signs a paper and is handed a box. The man tips his hat and leaves shutting the door since Reginald's hands are full now.

"Number Four."

"Yes!" He squeaked out, not expecting to be called on. He takes a step back when Reginald takes one forwards, an almost unconscious action at this point.

"Would you please carry this to my office?" He asked nicely although it wasn't needed. He would have carried it anyway because although it's phrased as a question it's really a order.

He takes the box out of his father's hand, it's heavy. He carries it to his father's office, along the way he could have sworn the box moved. As if there was something alive inside it, which might make sense considering there are little air holes in the box.

He doesn't even want to consider what kind of creature is inside this box. If he had to guess he'd say it's probably a venous snake or one of those big spiders. The ones he's heard live in Australia, those things give him the heebie-jeebies.

His father opens the office doors and he walks in, placing the box on the desk. "Whats in there?" He asks but he doesn't really expect an answer, unsurprisingly Reginald doesn't give him one.

Instead Reginald ignores the subject all together, he walks around his desk and digs through it's side drawer. He's unsure if he should just leave, this office is particularly a place nobody is ever truly allowed in. He doesn't leave even though he's uncomfortable, his father hasn't dismissed him yet.

Finally his father found what he was looking for, two black cassette tapes. He lays them on the desk beside the box before sliding them toward him, they are both named 'Four' according to the writing on the tape.

"I had thought about keeping these." His father starts, leaning back in his chair. "Until I considered you, and all of those loathsome habits of yours. You've got a way of overthinking the smallest things."

These tapes...

They had to be the ones that had all of those sins on them. All of things he wants to forget are clearly evident on these. Even if he healed and he could forget the moment, it will never truly be gone unless these tapes cease to exist.

He wants to smash them into little pieces so nobody can ever watch them. God maybe he could burn them somehow, along with this god forsaken place. This cage he's been stuck in, the place he happily sleeps in.

"It would be inconvenient if your mind were to wander off while you train and seeing as I don't need these anymore." He touches the tapes, runs his hand over the top in one smooth motion. "You can keep them, do with them as you wish." His father says this like he's talking about the weather. As if it's a completely normal concept to him.

He takes the tapes and Reginald doesn't comment, he just motions to the door indicating he is dismissed. He's going to destroy these tapes, the only solid evidence that confirms all his sufferings are true. He can't have these existing.

Reginald wouldn't hand these over unless it was part of his big experiment. Not that he cares, just having these in his arms brings a world of comfort. It gives the false illusion that he has some kind of control on his life.

A shiver runs down his spine before he straightens up and walks out of his father's room only to bump into Luther. The tapes click together but he's not worried about them. The blond doesn't comment and passes by without really glancing at him. 

He wants to stop Luther and ask what that heartfelt apology was about earlier, but By the time he's got enough courage to ask he's already gone. Luther has entered Reginald's office and walked straight out of his grasp. That's fine, no big deal there's always later to ask him.

Except there isn't.

He waits outside the office for a while but Luther never comes out until grace calls for dinner. Luther goes straight to dinner without giving him a passing glance, an asshole move. He's forced to drop off the tapes on his bed before joining the dinner table.

Dinner is highly uneventful. Vanya is a gloomy mess and Ben picks at his food. Everyone else suffers in a bored silence until it finally comes to an end. Reginald makes a announcement before dismissing them. He was half asleep but what he heard out of it was that they will be starting a new training regimen tomorrow and that they should go to bed early tonight so they can start early tomorrow. Reginald gave this little speech in a tone like they aren't always expected to do these things.

It's terrible.

He catches Vanya before she goes to her room. She's still a gloomy dark mess of emotions and it's not a good look. He gives her another hug because he doesn't know what else to do. She appreciates the gesture and gives him a smile when they part ways. 

She goes off to her room and Luther's voice almost scares him. How long had he been standing there? 

"You shouldn't get too close to her." Luther says but before he could say anything back Luther walked into his own room and shuts the door.

Could Luther not avoid him for three seconds? Thanks. He sighs and walks into his own room only to see his bed is already occupied by Ben, again.

Ben who's hand is twirling around a cassette tape, he appears to be in deep thought. This is exactly why he needs to destroy those tapes.

"Get lost." He ordered Ben but there's no bite to it. Ben is his only ally and Ben probably feels the same way about him. He throws the tapes on the night stand and doesn't comment on them.

Ben scoots over without having to be told to do so. He's got more fire in his eyes now, he's finally getting out of that depressing mood. He lays down underneath the covers and he's so close to Ben. It's nice, makes him feel protected.

"Why don't you want to talk about what happen?" Well there goes his good mood. Thanks for ruining it Ben.

He knows Ben will stop asking or talking about if he told him to but... he wants to talk with Ben. He trusts Ben with his life and the messy stuff.

"I don't get why everyone wants to know..." he stops for a moment before making a frustrated noise. "It's my problem. I don't want to throw it on other people." He said turning on his side and facing his door. Ben makes a noise of agreement behind him.

"Thats just that kind of person you are. There's nothing wrong with that but you can't blame us for being worried." He said pausing, placing a hand on his back rubbing circles. "We're your family. We want to know about your problems because we love you, and we want to protect you. You can depend on us, you're allow to. That's why we're here; To cry, to laugh, to worry with you."

God he's starting to cry, this mushy stuff is terrible for his heart. He wants to depend on Ben and be spoiled with love. He just wants to be accepted but he's always pushing them away when they get too close. He has to stop doing that. 

He wants to flip around and face Ben and cry his heart out. He wants to spill all the messy stuff and talk about everything. He considers it and for a moment he really might do just that until he sees it though his open door.

Luther dragging Allison away on some secret affair, even though they weren't being all that secretive. They weren't even being quiet. Not that he was interested in crashing whatever they had planned but he had questions and he was going to get answers one way or another.

He rolls out of bed and stands patting his eyes free of tears before slapping his cheeks. 

"What are you doing?" Ben questions behind him but he just waves as he leaves.

"Something stupid."

Ben scoffs and pulls the covers up while turning away from him. "I'm serious you know? I want to understand your problems even if they're messy. What problems aren't?" Ben says softly, whispers it almost.

He just hums in agreement before chasing after his unruly siblings. He doesn't want to be a crying mess when he catches up with them so he pushes all Ben's mushy talk to the back of mind. He'll open up about it soon, he wants to. He really does but he doesn't know where to start.

Is he supposed to talk about it as rape? Sexual assault? How is he supposed to talk about this stuff when he doesn't even understand it himself. If talks about his feelings he'll probably turn into a emotional puddle and he wants to keep it together.

It's hard to put trust in other people especially his family because he knows them. He knows how quickly they are to judge and make opinions on the drop of a dime. He's watched them avoid Vanya for years based entirely off of what Reginald has told them.

Reginald, a certifiable monster, they believe and consider his word law when deciding how to treat Vanya. They still do and he does too, there had never been a choice. At least that's what they have been telling themselves for years. He's guilty of the same thing, all of it even if he doesn't like to admit it he knows.

He hasn't been the best sibling to Vanya even if he's been trying to be. There will always be this wall between them as long as they live in this house because Reginald could be around any corner.

He shakes the thoughts out of his head and picks up the pace. They are probably going to the attic, the only private place really now a days. They used to go to the rooftop but Reginald has had it locked up recently. 

Reginald would come to scold them soon regardless so he had to get there first. On a night before training to sneak out was a suicidal decision.

Luther probably talked Allison into this, He'll make sure to talk some sense into him unless he coughs up the answers to his questions. Foremost of all, what was that heartfelt confession about?

He wants to know, needs to know because he doesn't want to come up with conclusions on his own. His heart keeps telling him that this all is Luther's fault but he won't believe it until he hears it come out of Luther's mouth.

————————————————————

He opens the attic door silently, a learned skill. The door makes no sound and he walks up numerous steps until he stops just before the top, just out of view of his siblings.

He hears Allison's giggles, how she's softly pushing Luther away in feigned innocent as he keeps pushing forward. It's no secret that Luther has a crush on her that she likes to pretend that she doesn't reciprocate. It's weird to hear them like this, so open with their affection for one another. It gives him shivers.

He's intruding on something he was never meant to hear or see. It's personal and he has no right to be here but he is. He struggles with himself and is unable to come out from hiding. He doesn't want them to feel ashamed or for them to get upset with him.

It's strange but that's all. Unorthodox behavior that Reginald definitely didn't encourage but that didn't matter. These things happens, he knows. He's lived with Luther and Allison his whole life in this place.

He knows how it happens. How you fall into love, a place where you feel happy and at peace even though the world around you sucks. He gets it. It was bound to develop, a love between two people who were forced to lean on each their whole life.

He gets it but it still unsettles him. It can't be helped.

He finally gets the courage to take those final steps and when he reaches the top... he's greeted by his siblings lip locked and he regrets ever coming.

Allison has a hand on his chest pushing but it migrates to Luther's back and pulls him in. He wants to close his eyes and forget because his stomach can't take this. It's not even the kissing or at least it wouldn't have bothered him a week ago. This is exactly the type of stuff he would tease them about but now it disgusts him beyond even his understanding.

When he looks at them and all he can see is himself. He hates it. Affection like that is vile and disgusting. He never thought he'd hate it but he never wants to kiss anyone.

It's so disgusting that his mouth fills with puke and he's forced to throw a hand over it. He closes his eyes and he breathes deep breaths through his nose but he can't calm his body. 

He can't stop the puke from burning his throat and filling his mouth. He can't prevent himself from throwing up.

He throws up all over himself, down his shirt and on the stairs. His mouth tastes like death and his legs turn into jelly, he falls harshly on his knees in a puddle of his own vomit. 

He couldn't throw up the disgust, it's still there and it feels so much worst now.

Allison immediately pushes Luther off of herself and scrambles to go to him. She's saying a bunch of stuff that doesn't make sense, she's panicking and he's not hearing it because he can't get over this feeling. It's like he's being touched all over the place and no matter how hard he rubs his body the hands won't leave him alone.

It's so horrendous that he can't help but start bawling like a child as vomit drips down his chin. He just wants it to stop. Allison tries to touch him with her filthy hands.

He doesn't want that.

He doesn't want to be touched by those hands that had been on Luther. That had grasped Luther in such a way, to pull him close and not push him away.

Those hands had accepted affection.

He immediately leans back trying to avoid her touch but the stair is only so big. He had essentially flung himself down the staircase. Allison tries to catch his hand, tries to stop him from falling.

He is glad she wasn't able to put those revolting hands on his even if that meant he wouldn't live to appreciate it. The last thing he remembers is the pain of hitting his head before it all went dark like somebody had just flicked his light switch off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who taught Reginald how to parent? That’s the real question.


	10. Part 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes having siblings suck and sometimes it really sucks.

Just like his lights went out they turned on. Quick and fast suddenly he opens his eyes and he's laying on the floor. It's a familiar yet foreign feeling that he can't place. After a good minute of staring at the ceiling he realizes that he's in the attic.

He sits up and holds his forehead for a few seconds to stop the room from spinning. He moves to sit against a wall, he leans his head back and closes his eyes. He's waiting for the pounding to go away so he can think.

The stairs are beside him on one side and the door on the other. He's warm and light sprinkles through a attic window, it's morning now. His head feels fuzzy and it's unnerving in more ways the one.

Most notably the little girl sitting against the wall in front of him. Her mouth hasn't stopped moving since she appeared and he momentarily wonders if this is why people get annoyed with him.

"When Sarah broke that vase her mother was so angry! She left a big bruise on her cheek for a whole week! Can you believe that? Sarah cried but she's all better now." She went on and on despite the fact that he clearly wasn't listening at any point nor cared really.

"Sarah went to school on monday and her teachers were so worried. She told them she fell." She twisted a hand in her dressed and looked away from his eyes.

"They believed her."

He brings a hand back to rub at his head, even if it didn't hurt at the moment he did hit it. It doesn't feel weird and there's only a little bit of blood. That's good at least. He let a sigh leave his lips and she turned back to him.

"Who's Sarah?" He asked deciding he would at least act like he cared for a second.

Something sparkles in her eyes, probably happy that he's actually listening. "I'm Sarah of course!" Her body posture had immediately become slacker and she gave a smile.

"Talking in third person is kind  
of strange."

"Its grown on me... my sister said it would help me remember who I was." She said with a smile although this whole conversation is completely bringing him down. That's saying a lot considering he's at rock bottom as it is.

"I should probably get going." He informed her before standing. He feels uneasy on his feet but it's not all that bad. She frowns at him before standing and following behind him when he leaves.

"What's your name?" 

He didn't reply and only kept looking ahead with the only destination in mind being his bedroom. He needed to be numb and distracted. She'd cease to haunt him then even if shes tolerable now. She won't stay this way for long, kids are always the worst.

Small, innocent and Manipulative brings. They like to have someone to talk to, someone to tell their story to, but then they want to be saved. He's not a savior or a miracle worker. The only thing he has ever been is cursed.

"You're hair is really messy mister." He ignores her.  By the time he got to the hallway leading to his room he realized he's already late. Everyone is lined up and Reginald is talking to them about something.

Training is going to be a blast.

His siblings see him before Reginald does and immediately they give off that concerned look. Which probably is deserved considering his clothes are soaked with puke and he's a little distressed at the moment.

Reginald having noticed his children's change in emotion turned to face the cause of it. His lips twitch before turning into a deep frown and his eye brows furrow.

"You look disgusting." Thats the first thing that leaves Reginald's mouth and it goes into his brain. A phase he's going to repeat in his head for awhile.

"Oh snap" Sarah not so helpfully added beside him and he wished he could shut her up.

"I know." He replied back, it had much more bite then he intended. Reginald narrows his eyes at that but doesn't push the matter further. He walks behind his line of siblings and into his room making sure to inform them that he was changing. He didn't miss the way Reginald rolled his eyes before continuing talking about whatever.

He immediately goes for his pills and downs a handful. The faster they work the better it is for himself. Sarah watches him with great interest but probably doesn't understand enough to realize that it's not a good thing. He changes his clothes and throws his dirty ones in a corner of his room.

He leaves and enters his line of siblings just as Reginald is finishing his speech. It's the clicking of heels on the hard floor that draws his attention down the hallway to grace who is carrying a box. That may contain a living creature or not, he couldn't say for sure.

"Good morning children" She said and received mumbles of 'good morning' back. Everyone was tired or at least not awake yet and it showed in their voices. She holds the box while Reginald talks to them.

"I thought I'd have a lesson on morals. A fundamental part of what makes you... you." His eyes wander over all of his children equally. 

"Of course if I preached to you, I doubt you would fully understand my intentions." He gestures to to box in grace's hand. "I thought I'd do a hand on lesson instead." Reginald opens the box's lid and he feels the anticipation running through his body.

What is in that box?

The lip pops off and something stirs inside the box. A fluffy head pokes out of the top, it's nose twitches as it smells the air. That might be a living, breathing, kitten. A certifiable dirty, untrainable trouble maker.

He has to be dreaming, there's no way his father really got a cat. Obviously there has to be some big catch or something. How is he gonna teach morals with a cat? It's cute and cuddle and definitely not moral teaching material.

Grace runs a hand down the cats back and it meows. He can practically feel Allison's excitement even if she's silent just as he can feel Five's indifference in the matter. Suddenly he gets a weird feeling in his head and he closes his eyes for a moment.

It's like that fuzzy feeling he has when he tries to remember why he went into the attic. He feels like he wasn't alone, that perhaps Allison and Luther were there but he woke up alone. If they really were there he whole heartily doubts that they would have left him. Then again he doesn't know for sure, maybe they hoped he died.

He claws a line down his hand to scold himself. That was a really dark thought that wasn't needed. His family wouldn't do that to him, he has some faith in that at least.

"This is snowflake." His father said in the most serious deadpan voice he's ever heard. He throws a hand over his mouth to contain a laugh. Just imagining Reginald siting at his desk naming this cat makes him happy. In all honestly though Grace probably named it but it's funny to think about anyway.

"Aww! Snowflake is so cute." Sarah's voice came from behind him and he almost jumped. Even if he didn't physically his heart certainly did. He had figured she would have disappeared by now but apparently he's not that lucky.

Grace walks down the line allowing everyone to see snowflake while Reginald explains. "We will officially start training after breakfast but I wanted you to have a good amount of time to get familiar with her." He said before subtly changing the subject. "I'll have grace set up a litter box and food dishes. I expect the main duties to fall on all of you. Cleaning up her messes, feeding her, and everything else to maintain Snowflake will fall into your hands."

He and his siblings mumble a 'yes father' back and Reginald seems satisfied with that. He calls Grace over, whispers something in her ear before walking away. They are dismissed.

Grace picks up snowflake from the box and lets her on the ground to roam. He doesn't hate cats but this whole situation is giving him bad vibes. His gut is telling him he shouldn't trust this.

Allison sits down and runs her hand through Snowflake's fur. "She's so fluffy." She continues ruffling fur before Diego sits beside her.

"S-she's cute I guess." Diego mumbles rubbing her ears. Grace places a hand on his back and whispers something to him. He rolls his eyes and turns his attention to Luther.

Luther is staring down the hallway, as if he had some intention of following Reginald. He wants to ask him, wants to pull on his hand and give him some form of puppy eyes although he doubts that would really work. He just needs to know that Luther's position in the bigger scheme of things isn't all that big.

Nothing that happened to him could be Luther's fault. He's gotta believe that. Somebody taps on him, he turns to face them. 

It's Ben and he looks mad at him, that's just great. He waits to be yelled at about what ever he did now but Ben's anger dissolves. He frowns "I was worried about you. Why didn't you come back to bed?" His voice wavers with real concern and it hurts his heart.

Ben doesn't need to worry about him when he has so much to worry about already. He can't tell him that he fell down the stairs and probably has a head injury. That would make him worry even more.

"I fell asleep... in the attic." He mumbles losing eye contact with Ben. Ben isn't stupid enough to believe him but he does give him a nice slap to the chest. 

Which is deserved as always.

"This is a trap." Five said beside him, in the clear I know it all voice. Five stares at the cat with a calculating gaze as if he was pondering its very nature. He doesn't understand any of Five's thinking but he tries to.

"I agree" he said but didn't have anything factual to go off. Only his gut feeling which has been wrong on many occasions.

He's comforted by the fact that Ben mumbles a agreement beside him. "You know there's a common saying that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar." Ben thoughtfully added as well although the whole thing went over his head.

"You're all over thinking it." Allison added from the floor. She's now rubbing the cats belly and it's purring like crazy. 

"No I think they're right." Diego said patting the cats head. "This whole thing is weird." Grace stays quiet beside him, she probably knows the truth about this cat.

"What do you think?" Allison asked, the question directed at Luther but he's completely off in his own world. She stands and places a hand on his arm. He immediately pulls it out of her grasp and stumbles back a few steps. 

"Don't touch me." He seethe at her and her eye brows furrow, she holds her hand close to her chest. Then all of a sudden she gave back that same flash of anger that he gave her. It's like a flame her just been ignited in her.

"Don't be like this now. You messed up, not me." She said through clenched teeth and he wishes he could disappear. He wants to go into his room and close the door because he doesn't want to listen to this.

"It's not like that." Luther said rolling his eyes at her, brushing her statement off.

"It's exactly like that. You can't stand the fact that you could actually do something wrong." She took a step closer to him and he stands his ground. "You aren't the perfect leader you pretend to be." She added and he could feel the way it lit Luther up. The small flame had turned into a forest fire and he backed away, its heat is too much for him.

He backs up and bumps into Diego, who stood up to observe this argument. He's half convinced they should interfere and stop this or that he should say something stupid and draw their attention away. Either way he doesn't like seeing them fight.

He knows he won't need to interfere because Grace is watching carefully. Her gaze hasn't left them since they started arguing, she could stop them if she needed to.

"I'm not perfect! I don't try to be perfect, I make mistakes okay? I'm a good leader not a perfect one." He took a step closer to her and now there's only a few centimeters between them.

"That's enough." Diego took a step toward them but Allison raises her hand, at first he thought she was telling Diego to stop but she wasn't. She brings that hand across Luther's cheek and the sound of skin on skin echoes through his ears. A red mark appears on Luther's cheek.

He keeps his mouth shut but he desperately wants to make a snarky comment. Luther could totally be the poster child for domestic abuse. 

Grace's eyes flash a hue of blue, her finger tips twitch but she doesn't interfere. He bets if it had been the other way around she would have jumped in or maybe he's over estimating her. It's possible she didn't interfere because Reginald told her not to.

Allison doesn't look like she regrets her choice, even if it was a little extreme. "A good leader... No a good brother wouldn't sell out their own flesh and blood. You can't just..." Luther throws a hand over her mouth and she squeaks. 

"I didn't have a choice Miss Perfect. I suppose you would have happily switched positions with him?" Luther narrows his eyes and the room is silent. Allison's eyes dilate but she doesn't attempt to respond. Luther's breathing is heavy but he still manages to throw a final nail into the coffin. "I didn't think so." The atmosphere has turned deathly.

He lets everything flow in one ear and out the other. He feels likes he heard enough and would have been happier never hearing this conversation. He's just going to forget, somehow he's going wash the words away.

There's a creak sound followed by Vanya's voice. "What are you guys yelling about?" She said before stepping out of her room. They probably woke her up. 

Luther drops his hands and walks into his room, shutting the door behind him. He tries to comfort Allison although he doesn't really know who's in the wrong and who's in the right. She doesn't take it, she walks off into her room and shuts the door.

"That was great." Diego grumbles while picking Snowflake up. "Ignore your aunt and uncle... they get like that sometimes." He coos to Snowflake like she's his child.

Five stares at Luther's door before insightfully making a comment. "Have any of you ever stopped and considered that our leader may be an idiot?" He furrowed his brows at the door before turning his attention back to the cat. Nobody responds to the question but he internally thinks so, just a little bit.

Grace mumbles something underneath her breathe about making breakfast before walking off. Vanya throws them questioning glances but no one really wants to explain.

"Can we ever just have normal family moments?" He asks his adoring siblings and they all basically ignore him except Vanya.

"I think so" Vanya brings a hand up to rub the sleep out of her eyes. "We are family after all. This is our normal for us." She lets her gaze drop to the floor and she ruffles a hand in her nightshirt.

"So...um" Vanya shuts her mouth, and takes a deep breath before trying again. "It was my fault that whole thing with the tent." She gives him eye contact "I'm sorry, really I am."

He feels it, the way the atmosphere changes from deathly to uncomfortable because she's apologizing for something that was a group effort. It just makes everyone feel guilty even him. People probably call this second hand guilt or maybe embarrassment.

He places a hand on either side of Vanya's cheeks and pulls. She makes a noise and he forces her to smile.

"You've got nothing to apologize about sweet potato that whole thing was so yesterday." He nuzzles her face before dropping his hands to her shoulders and shaking his head in agreement. He pushes her into her own room.

"Now let's turn that frown upside down." 

Vanya's room is clean and proper like her; ordinary. He doubts his siblings had ever really dabbled in the art of Vanya's personal space. He's been in it but has never stayed long enough to get stuck inside.

He turns around and peers through the door at his other siblings before giving them a wink and shutting the door. 

"What do you want to do? Sleep?gossip? How about we talk about our favorite fairytales."

He lets himself on her bed and sits against a wall. Vanya stares at him unmoving from her spot. A moment and then two and he gets up. He grabs her hand and pulls her on the bed, she's disheveled but she'll live.

After a minute they're both sitting against the wall and their legs touch. "So did you like any of those options or did you wanna add one? We have got time to kill before breakfast."

"Lets sleep." She whispered so low he wouldn't have heard it if it wasn't so quiet in the house. He opens his mouth to reply but she cuts him off. "I mean if that's okay?"

"It couldn't be better sunshine."

Vanya cracks a smile and moves to get under the covers, he follows letting her chose which side to sleep on. She chooses the outside and he respects that.

They lay down and she faces the door and he stares at the ceiling. He wonders if she just didn't feel like talking or maybe he is forcing too much into her personal space. Maybe she'd always wanted to try it-sleeping with someone else. The possibilities are really endless, she could really be tired.

Either way he's happy to indulge Vanya even if he's lectured later by his loving family. She's warm, her skin is soft and just that hint paler then the rest of them. As much as he loves her he knows he's probably resented. He wouldn't hold it against her.

"You really aren't mad?"

"It'd be stupid if I was." He throws a hand over his eyes to block out the  impending sunlight. She turns around and lays on her back too, he can feel it. 

"You wouldn't be stupid! I did something terrible to you!" Her voices wavers and she's probably going to start crying. He drops his hands from his face and stares at the holes in the ceiling.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to make you so angry." 

He doesn't have to look to know she's crying. He feels like a asshole even though he has already forgiven her. He turns to lay on his side facing her, she's only a few centimeters away on the bed.

Vanya's cheeks are covered in tears and her lip quivers ever so slightly. He places his forehead against hers and they share body heat.

"I already told you I'm not mad." He holds her hand and rubs a circle over her palm. "Aren't you angry? At Allison? Diego? Ben? They are letting you take the blame for this."

Vanya furrows her eyebrows in confusion. "I can't take the blame if it's my fault. I suggested the idea so I should take responsibility."

"No that isn't how this works, that isn't how any of this works. Those guys think they stand on a golden pedestal but they don't. There's no reason they aren't taking any of the blame other than they..." he stops mid sentence because he realized that saying 'hate you' would be too much and inaccurate. She appears to understand the general idea.

"I know but this is all I have."

Vanya turns to him and he lets her cry into his shoulder. All he can think at the moment is that this is disgusting. Not the crying into his shoulder but the reason behind it. It's their fault, his siblings, his father, and his.

They caused Vanya to be like this and that thought is disgusting. She probably feels trapped in this place and not just because Reginald has a distaste for her. It's her siblings that made this place hell for her. They only let her inside when it's convenient for them then they use her and throw her aside like she's garbage.

That's so disgusting.

He wishes he could say he was different from his siblings. As much as he likes to believe he's doing this out of the goodness of his heart he can't. There's a part of him that's doing this to get rid of guilt.

This trembling mess of a girl probably wants to forget but she's the type to stay up at night and remember. Remember all of the things she hates about herself and every little mistake she's made. He couldn't survive if he was that type of person.

Forgetting isn't everybody's cup of tea but he drinks it down for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It's delicious, refreshing and there's a real chance it's the only talent he'll ever have.

His motto for life has practically become forgive and move on and if he can't do that there's option B: Forget and live.

————————————————————

He's on the edge of sleep but he can't get there. The house started off in this dead quiet way that it's always in but now it's loud. There's music playing somewhere and he can hear the sound of laughter drifting through the house.

He frowns and looks at Vanya's sleeping face. Her eyes are puffy and her hair is a mess. She'll be okay though and that's all that matters. He gets up gently so he could avoid waking her and leaves the room. 

He's obviously missing something. The only time the house was ever this loud was when someone was fighting, it was their birthday, or when Reginald decided that they deserve a reward. Okay the last one happened like once but he's still waiting it to happen again.

The music is coming from down stairs, it's classical and if Vanya wasn't sleeping he might have assumed she was the source of it. One foot in front of the other he follows the sound of music.

It leads him the living room where a record player is sit up playing a nameless record. It's beautiful but he'd never be able to name it. He'd have to ask Vanya or maybe Ben would know.

There's talking coming from the kitchen where he was also hit with the smell of cookies when he entered. Grace is at the oven and there's no breakfast to be seen just a mess off pans and cookie dough buckets. Diego has a spoon and places lumps of cookie dough on the pans. 

Ben is sitting in a chair with a book in his hands and a cat in his lap. Snowflake looks content to stay where she is even though he doubts Reginald would be happy seeing her in the kitchen.

Five stands beside Diego giving helpful criticism on his cookie dough lumps. He points out when they are too big or too small and claims 'this is so easy even Klaus could do it'. He takes a little offense to that.

He stands off in the door way just waiting to be noticed but he gives up on that pretty quickly. He takes the more abrasive entrance which entailed walking in, stealing a bucket of cookie dough, taking a seat and sticking his finger inside. He sticks the now cookie dough covered finger in his mouth and hums. It's delicious.

"NO!" In a flash of movement Diego rips the bucket from his hand. "How many times have I told you that you can't eat raw cookie dough. You could get really sick!" 

"Don't take this the wrong way but half the things you tell me aren't true." He pouts and stands meeting Diego on the floor. "Besides I haven't gotten sick yet have I?" He takes the cookie dough back and sits down, leaning back on the chairs legs.

"I'm serious that stuff could actually kill you!" Diego just doesn't know when to give up. Obviously he stopped caring about that sort of thing a long time ago.

"This cookie dough isn't going to jump on the pan by itself." Grace said as she brought back a pan from the oven. It's full of piping hot cookies, they are always best straight out of the oven.

"Yes mother." Diego goes back to spooning cookie dough but the disapproving glance isn't lost on him or Five and Bens apparent indifference in the matter. It'd be for the best if they had already concluded he was a lost cause but he doubts that's it. 

Grace places the tray on the table and picks up a tray of cookie dough to throw in the oven. He takes another finger full of cookie dough into his mouth and it's just so good. It's sweet and the taste has always been so much better then the cooked stuff. Just because it's unhealthy doesn't mean it can't be his everything.

"Where's breakfast?" He inquires even though there are bigger questions. For example why are they baking cookies? He always ends up focusing on the wrong stuff.

He can already tell that Reginald must have gone out for one reason or another. That's the only way that this would be possible. Baking cookies was a luxury that Reginald never allowed.

"We're having brunch today." Five so kindly informs him. He hums and leans back and forth on the chair occasionally shoving cookie dough in his mouth.

When he leaned back for the fourth time he realizes that Luther is standing behind him and he looks pissed. His face has a beautiful red hand mark and it probably stings. He kinda likes it, it's nice to actually see Luther get what he deserves for once.

He sits the chair legs back on the floor and waits for Luther to blow up. That's just the kinda of air he's exuding right now. Instead he kindly informs him of something.

"We have to talk." Luther gestures for them to leave and he follows even though he doesn't trust this. Ben looks up from his book and shrugs his shoulders telling him he didn't know either.

What good is Ben for anyway?

————————————————————

He never took Luther for the kinda of guy to fight away his problems but well he was wrong. Stress will get to you he supposes.

He's brought to the backyard and he realizes with great clarity that Luther is going to fight him. That's why you bring people here, not for smiles and nice talks. Luther opens the door for him and he voluntarily walks outside into the cold January weather.

He doesn't really care as long as this ends soon and he can get back to eating cookie dough. It's fast, one minute he's standing and the next minute he's on the ground. A fist is thrown at his face.

A cracking sound fills his ears and hot blood dribbles down from his nose. What a nuisance. He doesn't fight back or protect himself even though he should and he could because this is Luther.

Luther his over protective brother that always throws every fight with Diego. He's kind and knows his strength is too much for brotherly fighting. What is this then? Luther just needs to let some steam out and he's the best candidate for that.

He lets it happen and doesn't fight back fight. Most importantly though he won't hold a grudge or go crying to grace. He'll lie and say this was their fault collectively. He's a good brother when he needs to be. If that's what you would call this.

Another blow to his mouth this time and he accidentally bit his tongue. Blood fills his mouth and he imagines it painting his teeth. He wishes he had a mirror so he could check because that would look awesome. 

Pain follows but he just stares up at Luther, motionless. The thing about pain is it's temporary, it'll go away. He'll be okay even if it hurts right now.

"Sorry." Luther throws another punch. He has to shut his eyes to stop the sky from spinning.

"For what?" He ponder out loud, he could think of a lot of things Luther could apologize for and this seemed like the least of his worries. He didn't really mind this, he was more bothered with the whole Allison scar situation.

Luther leans back, hovers over him and his hands that are on either side of head dig into the dirt. "For what?" Luther echoes him before chuckling and removing a hand from the dirt leaving a claw marks behind. He drags the hand over his own face streaking it with dirt.

"Don't you get it yet? It's my fault you were molested."

Molested

A chill runs down his spine hearing it said like that is so much worst then thinking it. The fact that it was said just means that it was real. He's going to have to face it even though he's wants nothing more than to runaway from it.

He pushes against the dirt and spits blood beside him. He brings a hand up to rub away the blood dribbling down his chin. Luther lets him up but his eyes hasn't left his. He imagines his silence is unnerving.

"You understand right? It's all my fault!" Luther raises his voice and presses his hands on his shoulders. Luther thinks this is some big secret and it was for the most part but Luther acts like he's supposed to be...upset? Did Luther stay up at night terrified that he'd hate him when he found out?

He doesn't really feel any other those emotions right now. He just feels good although that's probably just a combination of having his head slammed off the ground and blood lost.

"are you listening?" Luther shakes his shoulders and his head pounds. "It's all my fault! Okay? You're allowed to hate me! You can hit me and yell at me because I deserve it."

Luther is an actual blond so he doesn't go for a blond joke because that would be cheap but come on. This nice little speech would have worked much better when his nose wasn't broken and his tongue wasn't bleeding. He's pretty sure you don't beat up the person you're trying to apologize to but he digresses.

He rubs at his head and closes his eyes. Luther probably wanted to rile him up so that he wouldn't have a problem punishing him or whatever Luther wants. 

"Please stop talking you're stressing me out..." He mumbles before removing Luther's hands and standing. "Listen I know you're apologizing and all but I really have no idea what you're talking about."

Luther just stares at him and opens his mouth but closes it. He sighs and answers the questions he knows Luther has.

"I don't care that you think it's your fault. I care about why you think it's your fault."

"Well I- father he wanted to..." he stopped speaking and clench a hand in his pants. "He asked me who would be..."

There's a sound of creaking from the old back door and he looks up only to see Allison. Her face turns from shocked to angry. "Is that Blood?!" Allison rushes from the door way and takes his head in her hands. She turns him from side to side.

"I told you make up with him not beat him up! Are you crazy?!"

Allison raises a hand but whether its to slap Luther or pull his hair he doesn't know. He grabs her hand and stops her from doing anything rash. She scowls at him. She should watch making that face, it might stick.

"Don't get mad at him it's my fault. He was just defending you."

She frowns as if she was angry he really expected her to believe that which he did. "What do you mean?"

"Luther dragged me out in the cold to apologize but I was so angry I just a few tiny comments. I swear they were like super small but Luther oh man he got Angry." He lets go of her hand and moves to her face rubs her cheeks before leaning in. He waits until he's so close he can feel her breath and he sees the way Luther stands in response in the corner of his eyes.

"Say sweetheart," he moves to her ear before whispering "are you on the rag?"

Allison pushes him away and he falls on the ground just for added effect. "Im not! What's wrong with you?!"

Nothing is wrong with him this is just how he is and god does it feel good.

"Really? Are you sure about that?" He gives her a grin "You sure seem tigger happy today... do you normally go around abusing your siblings?"

"Im on your side! What's wrong with you? Shut your mouth before I make you!" she gives him another glare before deciding he's not worth it. She turns on her heels and stomps the entire way into the house, dirt kicked up around her from the force of her steps.

Oh she's pissed... it's going to be tense now but he prefers it this way. The whole letting people inside thing is overrated. What was he thinking? He loves the distance and craves the freedom it allows him.

"Thanks... I guess." Luther mumbles behind him. He turns to see Luther scratching his neck, a guilty action. He doesn't care.

He wipes the blood dripping out of his nose and figures he should probably get looked at. He turns to leave to do just that but Luther grabs his hand, trapping him there.

"What now?" He pulls his hand lightly just to test the waters and Luther tightens his grip.

"Punch me! Kick me! No one would blame you!" Luther desperately wants to be punished because he believes that will make up for what he's done. No it won't that isn't how this works besides he isn't looking for someone to blame anymore.

"Luther..."

"Please?"

"Let go."

Luther lets his wrist go and he leaves without looking back. Somehow he gets that feeling like the world is just dancing in the palm of his hand. Does Reginald feel this feeling? Is that what this is like? 

He's just being stringed along by Reginald but he allows it to happen. He tells himself if he has no choice but he does. He chooses to follow him because he's curious of the outcome. He's already too far in to not figure out the scheme his father set in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon the whole story will go in a circle and all will be revealed. The ending will be bitter sweet depending on how you look at it.


	11. Part 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self reflection isn’t klaus’s strong suit and unfortunately it shows.

He's lying like he always is. If he was ever allowed to peek at Reginald's journal it would probably say he's a compulsive liar.

His family believes that's his most unattractive trait but that's their opinion. He wouldn't say he entirely disagrees but he knows that sometimes it can be frustrating for them. It's frustrating for him too.

Lying to everyone is one thing but when you start lying to your self that's another thing. He's been lying to himself for a long time.

He doesn't like distance and he hates pushing people away. He wants to be a good brother and he wants to be a better person. He just doesn't have a good outlook on most situations.

Whether that's Reginald's fault or not is debatable. Maybe he's just a product of seeing dead people for living or it's the amount of drugs he takes to deal with that fact.

If it was up to him he'd want his molestation- if that's what they're calling it- to be one big joke. He longs for the day when everyone stops taking it so seriously and learns to laugh a little. It's a given that you shouldn't, this is serious but that doesn't mean it can't be funny.

He'd appreciate it if everyone stopped walking on eggshells around him so everything can go back to normal.

Grace catches him out of the corner of her eyes. Her eyes widen but she's silent. If he had to guess she's probably analyzing him.

————————————————————

His head is pounding and his nose hurts as it's starting to numb. He can't even accurately describe it to grace but she seems to understand.

Grace pokes and prods him in the infirmary. Each time she presses it burns and he has to stop himself from pulling away. Tears have stained his cheeks for the last ten minutes and he doesn't know when they'll stop.

After a particularly hard push she seems satisfied. She applies some sort of bandage. He can only feel it since his vision is distorted with tears. 

He's done but that doesn't mean the pain goes away or his tears stop. In fact his tears just multiply and he feels like he's going to drown. 

He hates himself and maybe it's because he's stupid. That's it isn't it? The world isn't dancing in the palm of his hands it's crushing them with its weight. He can't do this.

Didn't he just decide he was ready to let people in? How come he's managed to just push his siblings further away? At this point should he starting wondering if it's because he's being himself.

Grace hasn't asked any questions yet although she has to be curious how this happened. She lets him cry and all the while wiping away his tears. 

When it becomes clear his tears aren't stopping she hushes him and presses a kiss to his forehead. "Does it hurt sweetie?" She asks even though she knows the answer. It hurts and stings terribly. He's probably sporting a nasty bruise now but he knows he's not allowed to have pain medication.

If he was, Grace would have already given him some for his other issue. Even if he screamed and demanded he was given something she couldn't. Reginald must have told her he wasn't allowed anymore.

It's cruel and he knows it. He's just comforted by the fact that pain isn't his weakness. He's always had a good pain tolerance. It's true that it hurts but that's not why he's crying like a baby.

He feels like he's messed everything up. It's like his world just keeps falling apart and there's nothing he can do. It's over and that's it. Everyone hates him with a burning passion and they're so chicken that they can't even tell him.

He wishes they would. He wants to be told he's worthless and that his father is embarrassed by him.

Thoughts keep rumbling in his brain and he wishes they would just shut up. They aren't right... they're toxic. He likes them because they're the truth.

"Sweetie?" Grace rubs a hand over his cheek lovely and he closes his eyes. He had completely forget she had even spoken for a minute.

"No I'm fine... I've had a rough day." He opens his eyes and gives a false smile. Grace gives back an equally false one. He takes deep breaths and forces his tears to stop. 

"You know you can always talk to me." Grace gave him a hug before turning away to throw bloody napkins in the trash.

He could always talk to grace but that's like talking to Reginald. Even if it isn't directly the information will always end up back to him. Grace hands him a ice pack that she got from a nearby mini fridge and she tells him that it'll help with the pain.

He presses the ice pack to his nose and it stings at first until it starts numbing him.

————————————————————

He excuses himself when the ice pack has lost its coldness and after officially assuring her that he's a-okay. He makes his way to a closet full of grace's personal items which mainly consists of cleaning items. He grabs a rag and a bucket then pours one of the many cleaners in it and leaves. 

He carries the bucket to the attic and up the many stairs until he reaches his mess. Disgusting puke that's all him because he's stupid and works himself up over the weirdest things like...

He doesn't know. He really has no idea what he was even so worked up over his brain just tells him 'you were alone'. That's the only thing that really comes up when he thinks about the attic. It keeps repeating in his head like some sort of mantra you would tell yourself after seeing a monster in the dark.

He tries not to think about it.

He gets on his knees on the stair before his mess. He dips the rag in the bucket and scrubs. It's caked on the floor boards and he has to use force. He doesn't stop scrubbing until he's gotten it all off and the buckets liquid looks like a puke soup.

————————————————————

On the way to the bathroom he sees his room. The door is wide open and he sees those two tapes he despises so much. This is a trap...just like that stupid cat. There's no way his father would just hand over those tapes. They had to be fakes- unless they really are real and his father intended for him to watch them. He would need to watch them to find out the truth.

He's not interested in playing Reginald's games. He turns away and walking into the bathroom and pours the bucket in the sink. Grace would probably have a heart attack if she saw him.

After dumping the liquid down the bathroom sink he washes the bucket with water and throws the rag in an laundry basket in the hallway. He replaces the bucket in the closet and gets a much needed shower. In the middle of which he was forced out because Reginald decided to return at the most inconvenient time.

He makes it into his place in line just in time. His hair is soaking wet and he's not even wearing socks.

His father walks in the door and he takes off his coat. He hands it to grace who takes it without question. Snowflake watches from a distance and her eyes even so slightly track his father's movements.

In all of his years of being a good son he's never seen Reginald look this distraught. His tie is lopsided and his cane doesn't click like it ideally should. It's not as methodical as it normally is... he seems more human now.

Reginald faces them and rubs a hand through his hair. "There's been a change of plans-" he stops abruptly when he looks at him. When he sees his busted up face.

Reginald closes his eyes and clicks his cane off the floor once. He's probably regretting ever having children. "I didn't even leave you alone for an hour! How did that happen? What am I supposed to tell them now?"

Them...who? He doesn't know but it'd be a cold day in hell if he decided to ask. He shrugs his shoulders and looks away.

"I can't believe-" His father stops mid sentence and rubs a hand over his forehead. "We have a speech to attend so get ready. We will be leaving in fifteen minutes exactly and I will not tolerate any of you being even a minute late." He turns and walks into the living room.

He sighs even though he'd love to groan right now. He turns to go up the stairs because he definitely needs socks and maybe a pound of foundation.

"If I ask what happened to your face are you going to tell me you ran into a wall?" Diego said while catching up to him. Walking side by side Diego looks his face over and grimaces.

"I would have told you it was a happy accident." He rolls his eyes and turns a corner.

"A happy accident? That doesn't look pretty on you."

"That's where you're wrong. I can rock just about any look." Now it's Diego's turn to roll his eyes.

"I'm serious."

"So am I" He opens his doors and searches through his dresser for socks and after finding a decent pair he sits on his bed. He puts them on while Diego is silent. He figures Diego has finally decided to drop the whole thing but no something else caught his eye.

"How did you get those?"

After he finished putting his socks on he looked up and followed Diego's eye sight to those tapes. He shrugs his shoulders before standing and off handily replies. "Late birthday gift from father."

He doesn't give his brother time to reply or protest. He walks straight through the door and ignores all of Diego's comments. He keeps ignoring him even when he sees Allison and feels that dropping sensation in his stomach. 

He doesn't meet her eyes when he steps back in line. This is his fault and he has to accept that even if that means acting like he doesn't care.

————————————————————

It's always left a sour taste in his mouth, leaving behind his mother that is. She stands inside the house, her toes not even allowed outside it's protective embrace. She waves and offers a smile that doesn't scream lonely but she must be.

If she were human her emotions would be easier to read but as it stands her emotions at any given time could be fake. Klaus waves back along with his other siblings as they pile into a limousine.

He takes a seat between Five and Allison. His suit is irritating in the worst ways and the fact that he's placed next to his livid sister isn't helping. She doesn't look his way and her mouth is twisted in a frown.

He raises a hand and pokes her cheek.

"Stop it."

Klaus pokes Allison's cheek again and she glares at him. "Ally you've gotta live a little."

She bats his hand away when he tries to poke her again. "I'm not in the mood for your theatrics."

He rolls his eyes and sits back against the limousine seat. Five rubs his hand along his pants over and over again. It's kinda of concerning but he doubts five is interested in spilling his problems.

He completely understands.

Reginald glances at them but hasn't said anything yet. He's in a bad mood which some how translated to him not caring as much. Oh the wonders of Reginald.

They're there before he knows it and one by one they all step out of the limousine. Bright lights flash and cameras are focused on them and he's blinded momentarily. Reginald walks ahead of them on the long red carpet.

It takes Luther to grab his hand and pull to actually motivate him to keep moving. He follows behind and if he had any say he'd tell Luther to stop touching him. This place is making he feel dirty all over again or maybe this is how being exposed feels.

Either way it feels terrible. Eyes are eating him up and it's violating him just to walk this small carpet. Why hasn't he been able to get use to this feeling? He tries to smile like he's supposed to and he offers a wave to the paparazzi.

They take pictures that Reginald will scold him for later. He can already hear it now; 'How dare you display such a disgusting sight in public.'


	12. Part 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When life goes bad expect nothing in return.

If he was a better son he might ask his father why he's so stressed. He might ask if he ever intended to fix his tie or smooth that one stray hair. Of course despite his thoughts his mouth doesn't work on the same wavelength as his brain so he says nothing.

Not a word comes out of his mouth when Allison blows a kiss to the crowd. Not a single breath left his lungs when Diego tossed a knife in the air and caught it by its blade. Not even a single drop of blood left his finger tip that he was biting at so brutally.

He watched each passing face along the way to the ball room in which the speech would be held. Each step seemed to only make the room feel smaller and him like a animal on display in a zoo. He is nothing but a make believe hero to these people observing from beyond fences and what few police were here.

They weren't supposed to show weakness in public but if his legs keep shaking like this he isn't going to make it to the ball room. If only he was closer to Ben...

He turns his gaze to the floor and keeps it there but it's hard to pretend you aren't being watched when people keep screaming your name.

"Four! I'm your biggest fan!"

These people don't even know him. They Don't even consider his feelings or what he's like underneath his jokes and smiles. If they knew him at all they'd know he prefers to be called Klaus.

A hand is placed against his forehead and it takes him a minute to breathe again. Reginald presses his hand firmly before ruffling his hair. "You're quite warm."

Is he? He feels quite cold but he isn't going to fight about it. He shrugs his shoulders before Reginald gestures to keep walking. He does fully knowing Reginald only did that because he'd like the public to think he cares about his children.

————————————————————

Celebrities isn't a word he would use to describe them but that's the word the world uses. They stand in the back of a large ball room while the mayor gives a speech. Despite the fact that the mayor should be the people's main focus he isn't.

It's them- the great and amazing Umbrella Academy who sometimes help the city fight crime. He doesn't feel great or amazing but nobody cares what he thinks.

He tries to act like he's listening to this speech because he's supposed to set an example but he really isn't. It's hard to when you feel so many eyes on you. Sometimes there's a flashing light from a camera but it's mostly from their adoring fans.

It's mostly girls who fangirl over them but Allison does have a good sized group of fan boys. The fact that they have fan groups just make him feel less human. They objectify them and never consider that their home life could be completely different then their public life.

What do people think when they see him? Is he the funny one? The cute one? Or is he just that one nobody wants?

He frowns even though he isn't supposed to but Reginald won't scold him in public. At least not to the degree that he will at home.

————————————————————

There's something strange about this. 

The speech was short lived and had only mentioned them once. Then they said their goodbyes to their fans and left.

'Left' being used loosely because there's this thing called a 'afterparty' that Reginald insists they attend. It's basically a boring meet and greet hosted at one of the Umbrella Academy's many rich supporters home.

The only reason Reginald ever goes is for potential comic deals or praise that doesn’t belong to him.

It’s not like It normally is- the after party is usually filled with groups of fans that they had to entertain but today it is quiet.

Only rich old people roamed this room.

He doesn't jump to conclusions but this doesn't seem like something he should be attending. His family and these people aren't even in the same class. Reginald yes, but the rest of them stood out.

He and his siblings sit at a round table away from everyone. Nobody bothers them and they don't bother anyone else. Five has been staring at him and it's starting to get creepy.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" Five blinks before looking at his hand.

"Hello? I'm talking to you." He snaps his fingers in front of Five's face and receives a blank stare. He stares back until Five gets annoyed with him.

"Can't I think in peace?"

"No."

"Oh of course not. What was I thinking?" Five said before standing and walking away. Where is he going? He doesn't really care as long as he makes it back before Reginald tells them it's time to leave.

He leans against Allison since his other form of entertainment has escaped him. Allison has calmed down but he doubts she's completely over him. "Don't lean on me." She wastes no time setting him straight.

"Aw come on! you're my favorite sister." Allison kicks his foot and he recoils from her. "You don't gotta be mean." He pouts before leaning on his hand.

If only Vanya was here. He could fill his time coming up with names for her so he could attempt to get closer to her. He could do that without her but it wouldn't feel the same. When she's here and he calls her pet names it makes them seem closer than they really are.

He blows out a breath before standing and observing the room.

There's a buffet table on one side that amounted to their breakfast. The food wasn't anything as good as his mother's home cooked meals. There are chairs that line the walls but most of them have been filled. Then there's Reginald and his kind; rich, old, and cold hearted. 

He's supposed to be more independent? In what way? If Reginald just told him what he wanted he'd do it. At least he'd give his best attempt at it.

He throws his hands behind his head before making his way over to his loving father. Sliding in beside his father he receives glances from his father's peers. One of the younger men, a man with his dark hair slicked back and a shiny new suit on spoke.

"And who might this be?"

His father opens his mouth but he responds quicker. "I'm somewhere between that child you never wanted and a child you knew you needed."

The men stare for a moment before they dissolve into a group of chuckles. This is it- his calling, his stage, and the place where the spot light shines the brightest on him.

His father places a hand on his back and it clenches against his skin. It's irritating but not on the verge of painful. He knows his father doesn't take kindly to people interrupting him.

"This is Four. The most interesting of my many children." His father joins them in their chuckles and he smiles.

"I'd say." One of the other men says before his father's gaze hardens. It's good no everything is great until he follows his father's gaze. Across the room is Richard placing food on his plate from the buffet table. It's not just him though another person is with him, April. 

How did such lowlifes get in here?

Or was that it? The thing that made this place strange. Is everyone in here nothing but lowlifes with way too much time and money?

This is giving him a bad feeling.

His father's hand snakes around his neck and he's pull into a embrace. He'd question it if his mind wasn't so filled with the fact that people like that are here. "Do you trust me?" His father whispered to him and everything gets quiet.

His mind can't accept that he's being asked such a thing.

It doesn't matter if he does or doesn't. He'll still follow Reginald even if he's led straight to hell. Trust isn't necessary when there's only one path to walk.

"Yes." He stares at this group of men whose eyes have scanned his body more than once. Luther chose him for a reason. Was it because he thought he could handle this? Or was it because he cared less for him than his other siblings?

He shouldn't have any interest in asking but he does.

His father gives him a pat on the back before releasing his hold and switching to holding his wrist. It's a light hold as Reginald is well aware of his disgusting sin that's marked upon his wrist.

"So Four? He's a precious thing isn't he?" The first man who had spoken took a step forward. He raised his hand and moved a stray hair out of his face before bringing that hand to the bottom of his chin and tipping his head up. "Is this a one time deal?"

His father's grip moves from his wrist to his hand before he lets goes. "If everything goes smoothly there could be more deals arranged."

It feels like everything is crashing down. There's something he's just not getting and it's during moments like these that it really bothers him. Reginald, his perfect father is spilling everything out in front of him. It's as if he's specifically trying to make himself seem like the bad guy.

Whether or not this is just his conscience talking isn't important. He grew up learning that bad things happened to you because you're weak, you were sloppy and made a wrong move. It was never because of bad luck. It's that logical that always bites at the back of his brain it tells him there's more to this than he can see.

"I see..." He brings that hand up from his chin to his cheek and its fingers rub against his lips. "Then let's make sure it does."

It's surprising how much Reginald's presence calms him. He's actually glad for it. His father smiles before stating "I believe there's a guest room here." Then his father gestured to one of the side doors of the room. The man nods before dropping his hand from his face.

He doesn't want to go.

Reginald looks at him and it is clear there's no room for debate. He glances over to his siblings and watches as they laugh together. What are they talking about? Just looking at them, so close yet far away from him makes his heart flutter in the worst way.

He follows behind this man who's about to ruin him all over again. He doesn't even know his name. He glances over at his siblings one last time.

Luther is looking at him and he offers nothing. Not even a apologetic glance or a smile to assure when that he is going to be alright. He follows this man fully knowing his siblings won't be coming after him.

————————————————————

"What happened to your sass?" The man whispers against his skin and he shivers. What is it with people and necks? He doesn't see the appeal.

Kisses are placed up his neck until the man reaches his ear and nibbles on it. He remains silent unsure if Reginald wants him to act like he likes this or pretend he can deal with it. How is he supposed to be independent? What does that even mean?

He brings a hand up and lays it on the man's chest before pushing him. The man allows it and falls willingly back on a double bed. He straddles the man and wonders if this is what Reginald wants.

Could he gain his father's love like this? If he was a good boy and did everything Reginald wants could he be loved?

He brings a hand up to his own tie and loosens it. It's a powerful feeling flowing through him. It's burning his veins and providing a haze over his mind. This is so much better than being on the receiving end.

He threw his tie on the floor and takes off his coat before removing his shirt. The man licks his lips and for once he doesn't hate the gesture. He takes his bandaged hand and trails it down the man's neck until he reaches his tie and begins to remove it.

When the man tries to help he slaps his hand away. "Don't.” This is his game and he's going to come out victorious so he can win the prize of his father's love.

The man drops his hand and a smirk is written on his mouth. After removing his tie he unbuttons the shirt, one button at a time while trailing his opposite hands across the man's chest.

"Did Hargreaves break you in?" 

His hand stops and his eyes widen as his teeth grind together. He doesn't answer, he doesn't even want to think of his father doing such a thing. He leans over the brunette and places his lips against his cold neck.

He opens his mouth and sucks. He tries to do what was done to him so few but memorable times. He's going to leave this mark so that... this man will remember this.

After he feels like he's left a good mark he pulls back. There's a small red mark on his neck and it brings him satisfaction but he wants more. He wants to leave claw marks on the older man's neck but it's when he has this thought that he realizes how irrational it is.

This man hasn't really done anything to him yet. He hasn't even said no yet, in fact he's doing this all of his own accord. 

He isn't being forced.

The man sits up and places a hand on his shoulder guiding him to rub against his man hood. He doesn't fight it. The man closes his eyes before pushing his feet against the floor to raise his hips to meet his rhythm.

"I bet he did didn't he? I wonder what kind of sounds you made." He feels the tingly sensation that reminds him that his body isn't connected with his mind. It's strange when you can hate something so much and yet appear that you like it.

He brings a hand between them before rubbing himself. He closes his eyes and tries to forget. His body still aches for him to follow through and his mind wants his father's approval but his heart tells him this is wrong.

He can't do this.

He stops moving and tries to get up but the man just wraps a hand around his stomach. He pulls him down and rubs against him.

"What's wrong? Did that comment offend you? It's true isn't it?"

Of course it offended him. Who wants to imagine their father doing something like that to them? It's disgusting.

"I don't want to." He barely gets the words out before the man has pushed him on the bed and completely switched their positions. The man Hovers over him before pressing a kiss to his nose.

"Sorry to break it to you sweet heart but you don't have a choice. Besides we better be gentle now, I wouldn't want to give you anymore bruises."

The man almost laughs against his skin before pressing a hand over his throat. It's strange how much he hopes he'll just die. That the man will have the nerve to do what he never could.

The breath escapes his lungs and soon he can't even gasp for air not that he was actively trying. By the time the man realizes he's not going to fight back black dots cloud his vision.

The man removes his hand from his throat just as he felt himself start to drift into unconsciousness. "See? Doesn't that feel so much better?"

He feels weak but in a good way. It's like a out of body experience and he really doesn't mind when the man starts unbuttoning his pants. He doesn't even register when a hand is placed on his dick and he's rubbed to pleasure island. 

He barely even feels any of it or even comprehends what's going on. Why didn't they start with this? He needs to add strangulation to a list he should come back to. 

A hand wanders to his entrance and it lightly trances it. All he can hear is his heart and how steady it's beating in his ears. It's so nice to listen to... he could probably fall asleep like this.

He blinks against the harsh light of the room before turning his head away. He looks toward the door only to notice that they aren't alone. His father stands at the door showing no expression but his hand is gripped heavily on his cane.

It's an overwhelming sense of stupidity that falls over him. He wanted to win his father's love? What Love? Has he ever seen Reginald love something? He can’t say he has.

The man above him hasn't noticed another presence and probably wouldn't have if Reginald hadn't spoken up.

"Your time has come to an end”


	13. Part 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is the reward worth the cost?

The man sighs before getting off the bed and sharing a few words with Reginald. They talk as if he isn't there and it's one of those things that drags him up the wall but at the moment he could care less.

He just wants to melt into the lace sheets of this bed and sleep. He doesn't dream often but anything is better than this. The bed dips beside him and he opens his eyes to see his father. A cold hand is placed against his forehead.

"I hope you aren't getting sick." The words are weak and it's no wonder why. He's a disappointment and the only thing Reginald has ever been slightly proud of him for is torture.

The hand is removed before it's fingertips trail along his neck. "How disgraceful. I told him not to leave any marks." The fingertips follow along a handprint on his throat. Goosebumps travel down his arms and he shivers before placing his own arms across his bare chest.

"Why..." The word burn his lungs but slide off his tongue so easily. The hand stills against him before being removed completely.

"It's not your place to question."

Yes he's well aware. All he is supposed to be is a solider and he's to carry out his orders without question. Each day it gets harder and harder to do that.

"I know...sorry."

"Then why bother asking?"

It was nothing but a stupid attempt at gaining something. An apology? An explanation? Even a little praise would have made his life so much better.

"I..." Reginald wouldn't accept any of those reasons as real reasons but he has nothing else. "I want to understand that's all."

His father places a finger at the tip of his chin and tips up his head until their eyes lock. "Do you believe you've earned an explanation?"

No, he hasn't at least not in his father's eyes. "Yes." His father narrows his eyes at his response before letting his chin drop and instead trailing his fingers down his chest.

"Fine let's say you have. Would you still want it even if it came at a cost?"

He clenches his hands against the sheets to stop himself from flinching when a fingertip brushes along the bottom of his stomach. It tickles and is way too close to his main hood to be comfortable. He has to hold his breath when the hand rubs in circularly motions. He just nods in agreement because his voice won't work.

He sees it all in slow motion, his father's hand traveling downward to a place no father's hand should ever be and a subtle smile placed upon his father's lips. The hand follows a slow and steady pathway to his manhood. His father's hands are so cold and the area around his fingertips is on fire.

He's three breaths away from just breaking out into a sob. Reginald wouldn't like that, he hates when they cry and it's not because he cares. It's annoying to listen to. He's heard that speech before.

It's when his father's fingertips are only a centimeter away from grazing his dick that the hand is removed from him. Then he hears it. It's low at first, a small chuckle that turns into full blown laughter. His father takes his hand uses his opposite one to stifle his laughs.

That was the breaking point. Hot Tears roll down his cheek and he shut his legs before turning on his side away from his father. He throws his own hand over his mouth to stop himself from sobbing too loudly.

The laughter slows down before stopping entirely and a hand is placed against his back. "My deepest apologies Four, I was only joking. I believe you have earned an explanation."

He doesn't turn around or respond. He couldn't control his voice even if he wanted to. Something just set him off whether it was the burning hot pain of betrayal or simple shock is far beyond him. He presses his head against the bed in an attempt to get his body to stop shaking. It doesn't work like that but what else is supposed to do?

"Four..."

The hand against his back is freezing cold and yet the area it's touching is on fire. He pulls his legs against his chest and takes a deep breaths. He just wants to hide under the covers or hold a pillow over himself. The fact that he's exposed is eating away at him.

The hand on his back is pushed just the tinniest bit more forcefully against him but it makes his mouth dry up and his breathing too fast for him to catch. 

"Number Four!" He flinches against the bed before setting up and placing his hands against his chest trying to catch his breath. "Enough is enough." His father said before standing and grabbing the pile of his clothes on the floor. His clothes are thrown on him and his father begins to walk away.

"Enough? It's not enough at all!" He yells it all the wall in front of him and doesn't dare look for his father's reaction.

"Excuse me?"

He turns his head and lets his nails dig into his shoulders before he speaks. "I thought you were giving me an explanation? What happen to that?" He grinds his teeth and the sound echos in his head. "Don't you understand anything? I just want a pat on the head and for you to tell me I did good! Is that too much to ask? Why do you always look down on me?"

Reginald frowns and his eyes are dead set on him. It sends a red hot blush down his body but he doesn't waiver. "I just want to hear that you're proud of me... please, that's all I ever want."

His father is going to kill him. He's never truly been physically punished but Reginald looks like he might consider beating him with his cane. That's fine he probably deserves it. Half of that stuff he said was out of line.

He casts his gaze to the ground and waits for his father to blow up on him. Before more tears have a chance to fall a hand is place on his head and it ruffles his unruly locks. He closes his eyes while the hand massages his scalp.

His father hums above him before stopping and wiping away some of his tears. "You must be getting sick."

That's what his father got out of that. Of course that's what he got. At least his father might choose not to beat him senseless now.

"Of course that's no reason to back talk me." Reginald pulls on his hair ever so gently until he's once again forced to look into his eyes. "We will be discussing this once we get home. Get dressed and don't return until you look presentable." Reginald almost adds something else but there's a knock at the door. His father lets his hair flow out from his hands before addressing the knocking. "Come in, Number One."

Luther walks in with nothing but indifference plastered on his face. His brother is a good boy for Reginald unlike...him. If only he could be half of what Luther is but that's just not him. He can't be a dog to be called and ordered whenever his father needs.

He barely does as he's told now.

"Isn't it time yet?" Luther uses a tone that just screams authority but it has no effect when he's speaking to Reginald. His father raises an eye brow at Luther.

"Unfortunately the time hasn't come yet. They will get in touch with me tomorrow morning until then we must await our orders."

Luther rubs a hand over his tie before straightening it. "I see, if that's how it is can we let Four in on it?" Reginald seemly ignores Luther's words in favor of grabbing his cane that he had set against the bed before making his way out of the room. 

He gave Luther a few words before leaving. "It was entirely your idea that he not be included so the choice is yours." Luther frowns when the door shuts behind him. He frowns right back at his brother while moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

He knows what's Reginald's doing. He didn't need to say it was Luther's choice for him to not be included in this little plan. His father could have just as easily said it's your choice and left it at that. It's reverse psychology. Now that he knows that Luther was the reason he's been in the dark his brother has to tell him. Other wise he'd hate him or something at least that's probably what's going through Luther's head.

He's still too worked up too know for sure if he's even upset about this.

He ruffles a hand in his clothing pile on his lap before standing up. A blush coats Luther's checks before he looks away and says, "I'll be outside." His brother takes a step out of the room and as soon as the door shuts he takes a deep breath.

————————————————————

He puts on each layer of clothing while staring at a piece of art on the wall opposite of him. Is it expensive? He wonders if he were to put holes into if his father would be happy to pay for it.

He throws on his coat and messily does his tie. He stares at a vase that sits directly below the beautiful artwork. Should he pick it up and drop it? How many beautiful shards of glass would it produce? There would be enough for him to run along his skin so he could watch his own blood stain this ugly carpet.

How much would Reginald have to pay? Would he be angry? He's already angry.

He walks over to the vase and runs his finger along its ring. It would be so easy to shatter it. He wants to...just because he can. Why not? Why should he be a good boy if he isn't getting anything out of it?

He lifts his fingers off the vase and grinds his teeth until the thoughts go away. He throughly rubs his eyes and he's as ready as he'll ever be to face to real world. 

At least that's what he thought before he took one step out of the room. Luther is no where to he seen, go figure of course he had no interest in explaining why he left his precious brother out of what ever is going on.

Instead of the brother he wants to see he gets Five. Five leans against the wall across the door his arms crossed and his head tilted just a little to the side. His brother must think he looks so freaking cool. Five leans off the wall and takes a step before poking him in the chest.

"You aren't okay."

He flinches when the words leave Five's mouth. He knows, he really does but he can't talk right now. His heart is too raw and open for any sort of conversation.

He turns and starts walking down the hallway before a blue light appears in front of him and Five pops out. He walks around him and Five mumbles underneath his breath before simply deciding to walk beside him.

He keeps walking without glancing at his brother. If he doesn't watch what he's doing he'll get all emotional again. It only takes a minute to make it to the door that leads to the main party room.

He opens the door slowly and notices that the room has significantly less people in it. The party must have ended.

His family all sits together at a table and when they see Him and Five they start standing up. It's time to leave... of course. The only reason they were here was because of...

He blinks at Ben whose eyes are locked with his. He smiles at his worrying brother who makes his way over. He offers a playful push when Ben tries to speak.

Ben doesn't smile back.

"It's time to leave children." Reginald's voice comes from behind him. His father walks through his crowd of siblings before leading them out of the manor.

He walks along side his siblings in a deep silence. He glances at Luther who is avoiding looking at him. If he wasn't already so broken inside he might have felt more betrayal coat his heart.

————————————————————

The mood is so depressing that it feels like he belongs here. It's quiet, nobody speaks and each minute seems to go by ever so slowly.

If only the windows on the limousine weren't so dark he could have looked out and observed the world. He stares at his hand instead of his father. He moves each finger that he had pressed along that man's chest.

He's disgusting. He let himself do such a thing. He'll need at least ten baths before he can feel any sense of cleanliness again.

Slowly he rubs that hand along his neck and he tenses when it grazes across the sensitive flesh. What do his siblings think? Do they all know?

Why haven't they asked yet? Why is it so quiet? This is how it always is.

He leans his head back against the seat and lets his hand fall to his lap. He closes his eyes and waits for each ticking moment to pass by.

Breathing is the only sound that he hears.

————————————————————

Tic

Tock

Tic

Tock

The grand father clock in the living room is his only form of entertainment as he waits for his father to decide on a punishment. He watches as the pendulum sways and listens as it makes those trademark sounds.

He should be in the bath scrubbing away his filth but instead he's sitting on the living room floor watching a clock do it's daily routine. There isn't much of anything else to look at and for some reason it attracts him.

He could listen to it all day. How many more tics until his insides rot? How many more tocks until his heart stops beating? These are questions he'll never answer but time goes on nonetheless.

"No matter how much you stare at it time doesn't move any quicker, Trust me." Diego takes a seat beside him.

Reginald doesn't speak from the living room couch but that doesn't mean he isn't watching. He's observing them while thinking up some sort of torture to put him through. There's nothing he can be put through that's worse than anything else already gone through.

His gaze doesn't faltered at this old clock. Time keeps going and all he has are questions. How many more times will he have to go through that until his father is satisfied? How many cuts does he need to make across his wrists to end his life?

Is Luther ever going to confess everything or will he be forever in dark? What's going on tomorrow morning? Who is 'them'? If only his mind worked better so could come up with some logical ideas.

He bites his fingertips that always seem to end up at his mouth. He bites his nails until they crack and blood runs down his hand. He bites harder so the pain will numb his heart.

He doesn't stop biting when Diego tells him to. He just switches to another nail but that doesn't satisfy his brother. A hand is placed on his hand and a disgruntled Diego is staring at him.

"Why do you do this to yourself?"

What kind of question is that? He shrugs before watching his dirty blood taint Diego's pure hands. He flexes his hand and a sharp pain shoots up his arm.

He just needs a bandaid then he'll be fine. He always is.

"Just imagine how we feel when you hurt yourself."

He's made a nice sized crack on his ring finger's nail. Will it heal alright? He'd have a nice little scar if it didn't but that'd be okay.

"Are you listening to me? I can't stand it when you do stupid stuff like this!"

He pulls his hand away and stands up before dusting off his butt. His brother follows behind and he looks like he might cry. "What's wrong?" He asks while placing his non-bloodied hand against his brother's back.

"Weren't you listening?" It's harsh but it doesn't deter him. Was Diego speaking? He was too deep in thought too really focus on anything.

He brings his bloodied hand up and flashes it at his brother. "What? is it this? Don't worry about it, it's just a little blood. Its nothing but a bad habit I have to break." He smiles before bringing his hand to his mouth and licking a line of blood.

Diego's nose scrunchs in disgust and he takes that as his cue to grin. He takes a few steps and sits on the couch beside a a not so happy Reginald. His brother despite all of his worrying isn't interested in taking any of his father's wrath for him so he leaves. Each step he takes on his way out of the room echos off the floors.

Reginald takes in a deep breath before looking over at him. "If you wish we can rename her."

What? He tilts his head to the side and his father just sighs. "Snowflake? If you don't like the name you can rename her. I bought her for you."

"I thought we were using for for training?"

"That is what you call a excuse. I only got that creature because your mother insisted you needed an support animal." Reginald rolled his eyes at his own statement. "That vile creature is nothing more than a glorified reward considering what I paid for her."

He feels heat in his heart but it's the good kind. He genuinely smiles even though he shouldn't. He's so happy to receive something like that from his father even if he would have preferred a dog.

"Snowflake is fine, prefect actually. We can call her snow for short or maybe even snowy." He really loves his mother...she always been so supportive of him.

"I see...please do take good care of her then. She's a pure bred Persian, and it's important for you brush her daily to maintain her coat."

His father is trying to buy his love...and it's working. He knows it shouldn't. The very thought should repulse him but he's always wanted to be spoiled.

"And please do not place those bloody hands on that white fur."

He looks at his hands and watches as blood pools at the surface of his ring finger's nail and how it travels so naturally down his fingers. It's actually beautiful but he's probably the only one with that opinion. He nods his head in agreement.

"I'd never dare, in fact I'll go wash them off right now." His father doesn't protest so he leaves the room and heads up the grand stair case so he can take a well deserved bath.


	14. Part 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the wait is worst than the surprise.

He dunks his head under the steaming hot water and stays for a good minute. He isn't even dirty he had just gotten a shower before leaving. The dirt covering his skin isn't physical but he doesn't know a better way to wash it off.

He pops his head out of the water and takes a deep breath before leaning back against the white porcelain of the tub. He stretches his legs in the bath and flexes his toes. He stares at his hands and watches the blood smeared along his hand taints the water. The clear liquid around him turns a shade of pink but it doesn't overly bother him. In fact if he had some bubble bath it'd probably look cute.

He's so stupid.

Running away from his problems isn't helping anyone. He knows what his father wanted to say. That cat isn't a glorified reward it's a glorified tool. Nothing about that cat is supposed to be rewarding, it's just a manipulation tactic.

His father has a lot of those.

He lifts a hand out the water and watches water run down his arm. Its weird how the smallest things seem so much more interesting when you have things you want to avoid thinking about. It's one of those terrible things about being human...

He sits up before standing and stepping out of the bath. This isn't working, it isn't erasing the filth like it's supposed to.

————————————————————

Reginald had the weirdest ways off rubbing off on you. Sometimes he found himself talking like he just memorized a dictionary and that had to be all his father's influence. Five suffers from that too.

"Hot water isn't expandable." Five lectured as soon as Klaus left the bathroom; Soaked to the bone with only a towel wrapped around him. He's not in the mood to be lectured about his bathing habits. There are literally enough bathrooms that everyone could take a bath at the same time. 

He rolls his eyes and waits until Five has tired himself out or realizes he doesn't care. Which ever one comes first. Water runs down his legs sending all the signals that it's cooling rapidly against him.

"Are you even listening?"

He looks up from his nails and stares for a moment at his brother. "Of course! Don't worry I was one hundred percent listening to you! Cross my heart and hope to die." He makes a cross across his chest before smiling.

Five steps aside and lets him pass but not before giving asking him a question. "Why are you always smiling?"

He stops mid step and doesn't turn around when he answers. "I guess its because I want everyone else to smile. Is that weird?" He asks but doesn't stick around to hear an answer. He makes his way to his room with a hand over his chest.

————————————————————

Klaus could name every reason why he hated these suits. For one thing Reginald picked them out and is forcing them to wear them. Another thing is that no matter how many times his mother washes them they always seem to be stiff. The most irritating thing though is that they just weren't breathy.

Skirts and dresses are great in that regard but Reginald doesn't appreciate his love for them. So Allison can walk around in a skirt but he can't? Okay so that makes sense he supposes but still. He deserves to after every thing he's been through punishment be damned.

He steps into Allison's room still dressed in a towel since he couldn't bare putting on a suit. The room smells overwhelmingly like lavender perfume. She must have sprayed an entire bottle on her before she left for that stupid speech. Why bother? Did she think people would be close enough to smell her?

The only one close enough for that is Diego or himself. That perfume didn't do her any good because he didn't think she smelled any different.

He opens up her dresser drawers and searches for something he can wear. Anything to make him feel better in his own skin even if he promised himself he would never again wear something so disgusting.

He lands on a old faded teal dress that Allison wouldn't miss and he snags it. He puts it underneath his arm when he leaves the room and makes his way to his room.

In which Ben is seated on his bed with a book in his hands but his eyes locked on his. Ben can shove it because the dress is his first priority. He lets the towel fall to the floor before throwing the dress up and over his head and he slides right in. He sighs a breath of relief when the dress cools his skin and makes him smile despite himself. Ben's eyes bore into the back of his head while he searches his dresser for a pair of boxers.

He turns to face Ben with new found relief. "Father isn't going to be impressed." He rolls his eyes before sitting beside Ben. 

"I'm not going to wear it long enough for father to see it. I'm not stupid." 

Ben raises a eye brow at him and he narrows his eyes right back. It's when he says it that he wants to do it. Go to dinner dressed in a dress that is.

What would his father say? Would he be let off the hook just this once or would it be one of those extreme punishments? He wants to know and the possibilities keep digging at the back of his head.

He wants to disobey his father and be this 'independent' man he's supposed to be. His confidence is short lived as always because Ben's glare is all he needs to know that the idea is stupid. 

He stares at his hand that have a singular line of blood going down his fingertip. He really needs a bandaid but at the same time he knows that eventually it will stop bleeding as long as he stops irritating it. Regardless he should wash it off even if it's just in the sink but then again if he's just going to make it bleed all over again why bother washing it?

If he ever talked to his siblings about some of these things they would look at him like he's insane. Just like if he told Ben that he indulged a man in hopes of receiving his father's love. Ben would probably say that was a stupid move and throw him questions like 'isn't my love enough'.

He wouldn't want to lie to Ben.

"So What are you planning on doing with those?" 

He glances over to Ben who gestures to those stupid tapes. "Get rid of them preferably."

"I see." Ben didn't ask why because it didn't take a rocket scientist to know what those tapes were. Ben only knew about the second time... he probably has realized now that there has to have been a second time.

It's strange. His family thinks he's okay because to them it's only happened once but to him he's got four experiences always bitting at his subconscious.

————————————————————

He doesn't hate dinner or his mother but he can't help but feel betrayed. When his mother called for dinner that only meant he had to give up being happy in his dress and put on a stupid suit.

Or maybe it didn't. He could walk right down and stick it to the man. Too bad that isn't even an option because Ben wouldn't allow him to go looking like this. 

He wants to cry when he exchanges his nice dress for a suit. He feels the way the heat balls in his stomach and his throat constricts. He feels the way each step to the dinner table makes that bruise on his neck so much more visible.

Not to mention his entire nose looks like he got ran over by a train. Sometimes he really wished he held grudges because he'd definitely hold one over this. At least it doesn't hurt unless he applies direct pressure to it.

He sits in his assigned seat and watches as his siblings all pile in. He watches grace shovel food on to plates before sitting the plates in front of each of them. He also sees the way snow walks upon a table in the hallway and how each step she takes is one closer to knocking off a vase.

If she did break that vase the blame would be thrown on him.

He digs at his neck with what finger nails he has left. Each mark he makes burns but somehow it's erasing the filth the bath failed to. It feels amazing.

He takes a bite of his dinner; mash potatoes and steak. Grace can cook up such good meals almost automatically at this point. He could barely crack an egg let alone cook a steak. Reginald didn't consider cooking an important life skill because they'll always have Grace. Unfortunately he can't take his mother with him when he leaves the house.

After finishing his mash potatoes he grins at Ben because being supportive is the first step to being a good brother. Ben stops mid bite and furrows his eyebrows at him. Okay so maybe starting your good brother streak over dinner is kinda creepy.

When he's finished his dinner and has nothing else to do he turns his head to watch Grace. She is taking the cookies off of each pan and setting them in these green striped boxes. This wouldn't be concerning if Reginald wasn't in the room. That must mean the cookies were actually something Reginald wanted right?

He's going to ask Ben. If he doesn't stop running away from his problems they'll never get any better.

————————————————————

He stares at the little blue litter box placed outside his doorway. Yay more responsibilities. He can't even say for sure if Snowflake likes him and that's fine. He didn't need a animal to make him feel better.

An old wooden board creaks and it draws his attention to Ben. His brother has the strangest look on his face and he's forced to wonder what he's thinking. Is it something like 'how can I help Klaus? How can I make him feel better when he doesn't accept help?'. Sounds about right but maybe it isn't. Ben is probably thinking he's the stupidest person alive and that his hair is messy. He's probably staring at the mark upon his neck and wondering why he didn't die.

...

Yeah that sounds right. He smiles even though he'd rather cry and talk about his feelings. It isn't healthy bottling everything up inside but dragging his brother down with in doesn't seem right. He'd even go as far to say the thought is horrifying.

"Do you hate Luther?" Ben speaks with a softness to his voice that made his heart melt.

"Of course not." He doesn't let his smile falter. Ben takes a step and his body prepares to take one back instinctively.

"Klaus sometimes you're too laid back for your own good." Ben walks right by him into his room. He turns to see what he's doing only to see him pick up those tapes. Those stupid fucking tapes.

He hates how much that simple move made the atmosphere tense. "What are you doing with those!?" His voice comes out more panicky than he would have liked. That's to be expected though those tapes are meant to remain private and someday destroyed.

"They look ugly here." Ben smiles and rubs his thumb along the edges of the tapes.

"I'll help you get rid of them if you promise to talk to me." That's a terrible deal but it's the puppy dog eyes Ben gives him that convince him it's a good idea.

————————————————————

He knows Ben. His brother walks a thin line between supporting him and not supporting the things he does. Ben loves him and wants the best for him but that doesn't mean he'll pat his back while he's throwing up a handful of pills. That is how Ben is.

He also knows that he could have one hundred percent got rid of those tapes without Ben. He feels kinda of cheated now. He thought Ben would do something cool like use his tentacles or at least help him set fire to them.

Ben literally throws them out of Five's window and he watches as they tumble in the air before landing in a dumpster. It's amazing how stupid he feels. The entire time he was worrying about them and that's all he had to do. One of his problems is gone now.

"That was kinda anticlimactic." The cold air from the open window made fog form with each word.

Ben shrugs his shoulders as he closes the window. "What did you expect? I got rid of them so don't you dare complain."

He nods and rubs his arms to get rid of the impending goose bumps. "Why did we bake cookies?" He follows Ben out of Fives room making sure to shut the door behind him. 

Ben shrugs his shoulders.

"You don't know?"

"I walked in and Diego and mother were baking cookies. I wasn't about to question why." Why does Ben always fail him like this?

"Are you okay?" Ben already knows he's ruined.When he gets to his room he face plants on his bed instead of slipping on the dress. He wouldn't want to have this conversation and ruin dresses at the same time.

"Never felt better aside from that one time I broke my jaw. I'd give anything to be stuck on medication like that again." Even though a few days ago he didn't want that. Ben sits beside him and pulls one of his feet up and leans on that leg.

"You don't have to pretend you're okay. Nobody expects you to be." His father would disagree with that statement.

"You're worrying too much." His brother sighs before standing up.

"You're right. What's the point in worrying about somebody like you?” That simple sentence made his eyes water and he hates it. Had he always been such a cry baby? Ben doesn't care because this was the plan all along. Make him feel hurt so that he'll admit he really needs help and a hug. He won't admit that.

Ben stands and leaves the room and it's almost like it gets ten degrees colder.

————————————————————

Ben never came back and as such he was forced to sleep alone. He threw his dress back on since Ben wouldn't be there to judge him. He could toss and turn in his bed when he got uncomfortable because he had room.

His sheets were cold to the touch because nobody was there to warm them up. He feels alone. He doesn't just feel it he knows it. He's alone because he pushes away all the good in his life. He's lived so long under his father's thumb that he can't stand being happy.

When he's happy bad things always happen. It's like the universe can't stand him being happy or maybe it's that bad luck that Reginald always says doesn't exist. Everyone else can be happy but him? Noway.

You would think if you almost killed somebody that they would hate you a little but Diego and Luther seem to be getting along just fine. That's because they're family and somehow Klaus just fails to fit in the mold like they do.

He's insecure and has a list a mile long of everything that's wrong with him. He's selfish, he lies to everyone including himself, and his mouth doesn't have a filter. He uses humor to deflect his insecurities and everyone has gotten so use to they just think 'Oh that's just Klaus.'

He's never hated being himself more.

He lays against the bed and rubs his head against his pillow until he finds some sort of relief. He never remembers falling asleep but he always remembers waking up. It's cold and sunlight tickles his eyes and forces him to blink.

He gets out bed not concerned about sleeping in because before he knows it Reginald will be up here ringing bells and preaching about something nobody needs to know. He'll probably ignore Snowflake like she never existed and move on to some other form of torture. At least group training is never as bad as solo training. 

He yawns as he makes his way to the bathroom and doesn't even flinch when he's greeted by some girl on a ladder drilling holes in the ceiling.

His first thought is 'oh great dead people' and he doesn't even bat a eye when he walks past the ladder and goes to the toilet. He pulls up his dress and as he moves to pull down his underwear the woman speaks to him.

"It's so good to meet you!" The woman said and with each word her pigtails bounced. He tilted his head and took him a good minute to even contemplate that she's a real living person.

"Oh?" He lets his dress down and tries not to feel the heat spreading across his face.

"Hargreaves said I would know who Four was immediately. You're such a good kid offering your services like this!" She leans against her ladder and grins. "I tried to sign up ages ago but they refused to let me because apparently I'm way too old."

It's too early for this. This woman talks way too fast for the sun just rising. What is she even doing in his house?

"We're really lucky to have Hargreaves aren't we? Your father is a good man." She gives a pat on his shoulder. "By the way your dress is cute and all but it's out dated. Don't worry about that, we suspected that to be the case so we brought you one." His fingers twitch beside him as his brain boots up. She sorta smells of gun powder and that makes sense the more he stares at her.

If he were to assume she's with 'them' why is it that she's dressed as if she were a police officer? The badge, the blue uniform and oh she has a gun tucked away on her belt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm ~


	15. Part 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slience is always a terrible sound.

This is his bathroom. Okay, so technically speaking it belongs to his father but that isn't the point. If he wants to use the toilet or take another bath he shouldn't be afraid to walk in on some crazy lady doing weird things to his ceiling.

Not to mention her mouth moved continuously until she abruptly kicked him out. Honestly, some people have a lot of nerve and he's over it. Now he doesn't know if he even feels like justifying anything.

The one thing he wants, the only thing he's wanted for days is a reason. A reason that he's been forced through all of his sufferings. He won't just accept any reason though he wants it to be good.

That women if she truly is a police officer is probably a good sign.

Maybe.

He wants to know. He is going to ask Luther with his best form of an angry voice. He's going to tell him he's had enough and demands an answer whether it's bad or good.

He can't really fall through with it. He's trying to work himself up and get the courage to meet Luther face and face. His brother isn't even awake yet and he's contemplating ways to torture the info out of him.

He's really losing it, isn't he? His mind goes to crazy places and all he can do is watch.

He doesn't know if he really wants to face the fact that whatever she was doing with his ceiling wasn't good. It didn't give a good vibe at all and it was all definitely his father's idea. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been allowed a single foot inside the house.

"If you keep making that face it's going to stick." The voice is barely above a whisper and it sends shivers down his spine. He turns only to meet Ben's smug mug. Of course, his brother couldn't resist checking up on him.

"Huh?"

Klaus puts his hands on the side of his face before tilting. "I'm joking Klaus." Yes, he knows but he loves humoring Ben's attempts at humor. He's a good brother like that.

"I know." He turns away from the bathroom door in front of which he was contemplating his life choices and makes his way down the hallway. He walks and it isn't long before he hears the pitter patter of his brother's steps. Ben follows behind him like some sort of puppy. He's been through this before.

"What happened to not worrying about me?"

"It's hard to when you're unpredictable. What do you think Diego would do to me if you ran away?"   
Surprising Klaus had never really considered that as an actual option. Sounds nice, living on the street, selling rocks, and getting high. Where does he sign up?

Ben isn't always this selfish. In fact, that kinda sounds like something Klaus would say. He's rubbing off on his brother in the worst ways.

"He'd give you a lollipop and a pat on the back." He flashes a smile at his brother. Ben is frowning and doesn't look impressed at all with him. He turns back and rolls his eyes as they turn a corner. He sees his father heading their way so he slows down. 

Ben doesn't get the memo.

"Stop talking like that." Ben managed to say before Klaus shushes him.

"I'm serious-" Reginald spots them out of the corner of his eyes so all Klaus's efforts in being silent have gone to waste. He needs a roll of duct tape.

"What are you doing?" His father's voice is firm and despite how early it is doesn't sound sluggish. He stares at his father for a moment before coming up with an answer. What is he doing?

Nothing. He is doing absolutely nothing and yet it feels like he's committing some sort of sin. It's early he should be in bed contemplating when he'll get a new bedside lamp. Maybe he could ask his mother but he won't get a new one until a holiday rolls around again.

Reginald clicks his cane off the ground before speaking again "I do expect an answer Number Four." What about Ben? Is he a special little snowflake?

"I'm..." he doesn't even know what he's doing. He was just walking to get his thoughts sorted out. Ben takes a step back. Somehow he isn't a part of this.

"How dare you walk around my house dressed like this."

Oh.

He was so worked up he didn't even think about that he was, in fact, wearing this stupid faded dress. His anger transforms into some sort of fear and all he can feel is how small the room is. He's been caught- Pushed into a corner of his own creation.

His heart starts pounding and all the while his father's anger is growing. It's silent. The worst kind. He knows why...They have a guest and he has the nerve to walk around dressed like an idiot. 

His father must think he just dresses up like a girl to make him livid. The truth is though that he enjoys it. It makes him feel better on those days when the sun just doesn't shine. He never throws on a dress with the mindset his father thinks he has.

"Number Four, my office now." It's like his father is angry but not. He keeps his voice at a sane level despite the fact that he is definitely fuming. Silent anger is without a doubt the scariest.

He trembles and has to look away from his father's gaze when he follows behind. He's becoming that puppy he didn't want to be.

Ben doesn't say anything.

————————————————————

He sits in a armchair while his father sits at his desk and scribbles something in his journal. He's losing his mind over his father's every small movement. He rubs his legs together and curses that woman for being in his bathroom. He needs to go but his father won't hear about any of that.

Each time his father runs a hand through his hair or stops to think Klaus Freezes. He's waiting for the moment his father is going to flip out and kill him with that pen. He's waiting for his father to start giving a speech. He's waiting for his father to give him a sense of false security before ripping it away.

He's waiting for anything.

Anything at all to make his stomachache meaningful or his endless shakes stop. He can't stand the silence that is being forced inside his mind and making all his thoughts so much bigger. Cold air brushes across his knees and it only makes him more aware of his problem.

He really needs to go. His stomach feels hot and if he pressed on it he'd probably feel a hard spot. He's about to pee his pants but his father hasn't even given him any words or small glances. If he's lucky his bladder will just explode and kill him.

His father would definitely kill him if he ruined his armchair but it's not like he can state his problem. This isn't his time to speak. He waits patiently while his father takes his sweet time in doing whatever he's doing.

Reginald drops the pen. It rolls off the desk and lands beside his feet with a nice click.

Klaus stares at it as it rolls by his foot and leans over to pick it up. Hands are slammed on the desk and he bolts upright in his chair without the pen. "Do not move!" His father lectures before standing up himself and retrieving the pen. He places the pen on his own desk before going back to sitting down.

He keeps running his feet along the floor in an attempt to fill his mind with anything except his toxic thoughts. Knocks echo from beyond the door and his father looks at it and decides to open it himself. Time seems to be going by so slow, he can hear each and every footstep his father makes on the hardwood floor. He can hear the door slowly creak open and he can hear two men speak with his father.

He can hear each syllable uttered by them. He can hear how each word makes him want to cry. It makes him want to cry and beg his father to have a little compassion but he can't. He learned a long time ago that his father didn't care.

"He's ready." Reginald's words echo through the room. He says them with such authority that it's hard to question them but...Klaus knows he isn't. He could never be ready for anything his father throws at him. He shouldn't need to be ready. This is probably the closest thing to true child abuse he's ever experienced and yet somehow the police are involved in this.

How does that even work?

He doesn't look behind himself because he hasn't been given permission but he wants to. He wants to see with his own eyes what kind of monsters his father had found. "I've been waiting for a warm mouth." One of the men speaks and the words alone make him feel dirty like he's just been touched.

"Even his back is sexy." The other man said and all he can do is stare at the desk in front of him. He wonders if he grabs a pen if he could use it as a weapon. He doesn't. His father wouldn't allow him to even attempt it.

"I've raised him to be a pleaser." His father's voice cuts through the thick air. "He craves attention." The way his father talks makes it sound like he's been groomed. He doesn't get time to really think about this before a hand is placed on his back. "If you would say hello to our guests Four." he stares ahead for another moment before bracing himself.

He stands up and turns around only to feel his sense of dread meet the top of the bar. These aren't the normal people Reginald somehow finds. These are young people- like the kind you would find at a skateboard park. These young adults are looking at him like they're about to eat him.

Why do people think he's just so delicious? Why do people like him? Where does Reginald find these sick people? He's just stuck in a rabbit hole of questions that never end.

He wants to take a step back. He wants to hide behind his father even though he wouldn't be offered protection. Even so, compared to these strangers his father is a safe haven.

He wants to beg his father for mercy and so he does.

He clenches a hand in his father's suit and gives what he hopes is a good set of puppy eyes. He doesn't even have to try for tears start pooling in his eyes.

"Please don't make me..." he barely whispers it because the words are signs of disobedience. He isn't supposed to talk back. He was left off the hook yesterday but he won't today. "Please..." he says again in case his plea wasn't heard. "I'll do anything else." He lets the words leave his lips although he might come to regret them.

Reginald is silent.

He clenches another hand into his father's back and waits. The men stare in silence and don't even look like they question this. Are they used to their prey fighting back? Just hearing himself think that makes him take another step behind his father.

The silence is growing.

The silent anger is bubbling.

A creak sounds at the door and he only looks for a moment. Behind these men is Luther. He wants to beg Luther. Beg him for help. Beg him to hold his hand and protect him like he's supposed to. He wants to know what Luther is thinking right now.

Luther has bags under his eyes but despite his tired appearance he screams guilty. He looks like he wants to help...he looks like he regrets bringing these men. His brother looks away because he can't stand to see Klaus's tears.

He turns his attention back to his father who looks at him with indifference but Klaus thinks he sees something shining in his eyes. Whether that's the wrath of an angry god or the kindness from the devil is beyond him. 

All he can do is wait.


End file.
